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FROM   THE  LIBRARY  OF 
REV.   LOUIS    FITZGERALD    BENSON.   D.  D. 

BEQUEATHED    BY   HIM   TO 

THE   LIBRARY  OF 

PRINCETON  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY 


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DEC   8  1933 
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HYMNS 


FOR    THE 


Sick    an&    ©itffering. 


WITH  AN  INTRODUCTION      * 


/ 


By   Kev.    A.    C    THOMPSON 


Where  is  God,  my  Maker,    - 
Who  giveth  Songs  in  the  Night  ?  —  Job  xxxv.  10. 


THIRD     EDITION. 


BOSTON: 

S.    K.    WHIPPLE   AND    COMPANY, 

100  Washington  Street. 

1  854. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1853,  by 

S.  K.  "Whipple  and   Company, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts 


CAMBRIDGE: 
METCALF  AND   COMPANT,  STEREOTYPERS   AND  PRINTERS. 


PREFACE 


TO    THE    SECOND    EDITION 


So  far  as  is  known  to  the  compiler,  this  vol- 
ume, in  its  previous  edition,  was  the  first  of  the 
kind  published  in  this  country.  Within  a  few 
years  past,  several  collections  similar  in  their 
general  character  have  appeared  in  England. 
German  literature,  too,  is  any  thing  but  deficient 
in  this  department.  A  specimen  may  be  found 
in  Knapp's  Liederschatz,  B.  II.,  where  it  will  be 
seen,  that  hymns  3057-3081  are  expressly  for 
the  sick.  There  have  also  been,  for  many  years, 
distinct  collections  in  that  language :  Lavater's 
Lieder  fur  Leidende,  "  Hymns  for  Sufferers," 
1787,  8vo.  —  Auswahl  der  besten  Trostgesange 
fur  Leidende,  von  J.  S.  Fest,  "  Selections  of  the 


IV  PREFACE. 

Best  Consolatory   Songs  for  Sufferers,"  Leipsic, 
1789.  8vo. 

That  such  collections  are  desirable  would  seem 
quite  obvious.  The  sick  and  suffering  are  gen 
erally  unable  to  listen  or  to  read,  with  attention, 
for  any  length  of  time  continuously.  An  adap- 
tation, therefore,  to  their  case  will  be  found  in 
the  brevity  of  these  lyrical  productions.  There 
is  also  a  special  adaptation  to  their  case  in  suit- 
able poetry,  which,  by  its  condensed  and  harmo- 
nious form  of  expression,  arrests  and  tranquillizes 
the  mind  beyond  any  other  mode  of  human 
address. 

Most  of  the  pieces  in  the  following  collection, 
it  is  presumed,  are  not  familiarly  known  in  this 
country.  A  few,  however,  have  been  inserted 
because  of  their  familiarity,  their  acknowledged 
excellence,  and  particular  adaptation  to  the  de- 
sign of  this  volume. 

It  will  probably  be  found,  that,  so  far  as  suited 
to  lyrical  purposes,  the  more  usual  and  more 
important  circumstances  and  spiritual  necessities 
of  the  sick-room  have  been  specifically  remem- 
bered in  this  collection.     A  passage  of  Scripture, 


PREFACE.  V 

entire  or  in  part,  is  prefixed  to  each  hymn,  that 
the  best  of  all  comforters  and  instructors  may  be 
kept  constantly  in  mind.  The  hope  is  enter- 
tained, that,  where  wearisome  days  and  nights 
are  appointed,  this  volume  will,  in  numberless 
instances,  answer  the  question,  "  Is  there  no  balm 
in  Gilead  ?  is  there  no  Physician  there  ?  " 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2012  with  funding  from 

Princeton  Theological  Seminary  Library 


http://archive.org/details/toufferinOOthom 


INTRODUCTORY  ADDRESS 


THE  INVALID. 


Of  few  days  and  full  of  trouble ;  such  is  an 
epitome  of  human  life.  You,  my  friend,  are  now 
ready  to  admit  the  truth  of  this.  You  are  labor- 
ing under  disease.  Former  activity  has  given 
place  to  confinement.  Your  situation  is  that  of 
disappointment,  irksomeness,  and  pain.  A  word 
of  Christian  interest  cannot  be  unacceptable  to 
you.  As  one  who  by  experience  is  not  wholly 
unacquainted  with  your  case,  let  me  suggest  a 
few  things. 

You  have  been  asking  yourself  in  the  retire- 
ment of  this  room,  "Why  is  it  that  I  —  why  is  it 
that  man  should  be  heir  to  so  much  suffering  ? 
Evidently  and  only  because  of  so  much  sin. 
Wherefore,  as  by  one  man  sin  entered  into  the 
world,  and  death  by  sin,  and  so  death  passed 
upon  all  men,  for  that  all  have  sinned.     All  suf- 


Vlll  INTRODUCTION. 

fering  is  penal.  The  pains  you  now  undergo 
form  a  part  of  what  is  wrapped  up  in  that  com- 
prehensive and  ponderous  word,  "  death."  The 
sickness  and  other  evils  incident  to  our  fallen 
state  are  one  mighty  expression  of  God's  dis- 
pleasure at  sin.  Every  pain  endured  by  man 
since  the  apostasy  has  been  a  punitive  messenger 
reminding  how  dreadful  is  human  guilt.  You 
will  not  understand  me  as  intimating  that  retri- 
bution is  limited  to  the  present  life.  No,  the 
transient  paroxysm,  and  the  intermittent  burning 
now  felt,  are  only  precursors  of  the  worm  that 
dieth  not,  and  the  fire  that  is  not  quenched.  Bear 
in  mind,  then,  that  one  design  of  this  sickness  is 
to  impress  upon  you  the  fact  of  universal  sinful- 
ness and  the  consequent  curse,  and  of  your  par- 
ticipation in  the  same.  Do  you  penitently  admit 
your  own  sinfulness  ?  Do  you  feel  your  utter 
moral  helplessness  ?  Do  you  see  convincingly 
your  need  of  an  almighty  Saviour  ?  For  thus 
saith  the  Lord,  Thy  bruise  is  incurable,  and  thy 
wound  is  grievous.  There  is  none  to  plead  thy 
cause,  that  thou  mayest  be  bound  up ;  thou  hast 
no  healing  medicines.  Will  you  not,  then,  cry 
to  the  great  Physician,  Lord  Jesus,  have  mercy 
on  me  ? 

But  it  is  also  true,  a  present  Providence  has 
ordered  your  sickness.     You  have  spoken  of  an 


INTRODUCTION.  IX 

hereditary  predisposition,  a  certain  exposure,  an 
over-exertion,  with  which  your  illness  seems  to 
stand  connected.  This  is  proper.  But  beware 
of  suffering  such  an  expression  as  "  It  happened 
thus  or  thus,"  to  beguile  you  into  a  denial  of 
God's  constant  inspection  and  control  of  the 
events  —  the  minutest  even  —  of  your  whole  life. 
The  very  hairs  of  your  head  are  all  numbered. 
And  affliction  cometh  not  forth  of  the  dust,  nei- 
ther doth  trouble  spring  out  of  the  ground.  Wea- 
risome nights  are  appointed  unto  you.  God  has 
laid  you  upon  this  bed.  As  truly  has  he  done  it, 
as  if  his  unseen  hand  had  become  visible  in  con- 
ducting you  hither. 

Your  thoughts  have  probably  anticipated  me 
in  saying  that  resignation,  complete  resignation, 
is  justly  claimed  of  you.  Wherefore  doth  a  liv- 
ing man  complain,  a  man  for  the  punishment  of 
his  sins  ?  There  is  infinite  propriety  in  your 
suffering  thus.  Meek  submission  to  it,  therefore, 
as  merited,  and  more  than  merited,  is  what  God 
challenges  first  of  all.  Be  still,  and  know  that 
I  am  God.  An  approving  apprehension  of  his 
justice  is  as  indispensable  as  of  his  goodness. 
Neither  can  exist  acceptably  to  him  without  the 
other. 

And  can  you  not  at  this  moment  see  occasion 
for  both  ?     Is  the  full  measure  of  your  deserts 


INTRODUCTION. 


meted  out  to  you  ?  The  rod  is  indeed  applied, 
but  it  is  not  the  scorpion.  You  are  not  lifting 
up  your  eyes  in  torment,  in  devouring  flames. 
Mercies  are  mingled  with  judgments.  Kindness 
and  severity  are  blended  mysteriously  in  your 
case,  as  in  the  case  of  every  sinner  while  in  pro- 
bation. For  he  doth  not  afflict  willingly,  nor 
grieve  the  children  of  men.  In  every  stroke  of 
his  rod,  in  every  pain,  there  is  also  a  fatherly  for- 
bearance. Strict  justice  demands  everlasting  and 
unmitigated  misery,  and  the  full  and  penitent 
admission  of  this  God  insists  upon.  You  seem 
to  look  distrustful,  as  if  this  were  a  strange  or  a 
hard  doctrine.  But,  my  friend,  I  dare  not  deal 
an  opiate  doctrine.  God  has  bidden  me  speak 
to  you  affectionately,  yet  plainly  and  solemnly. 
Woe  is  unto  me  if  I  administer  what  shall  be- 
numb your  conscience.  Unwarranted  consolation 
would  stupefy  only  to  destroy. 

But  you  are  a  professed  Christian.  God  is 
now  applying  a  test,  that  you  may  know  whether 
you  are  truly  such ;  and,  if  so,  that  you  may  be- 
come more  eminently  such.  He  has  placed  you 
in  the  alembic  of  suffering.  It  may  seem  to  you, 
that  in  the  process  there  is  intensity,  and  even 
fury,  yet  all  that  he  does  is  needful.  It  is  not 
in  anger  that  the  refiner  puts  the  precious  metal 
into  the  fire.     David  could  say, —  I  was  dumb,  I 


INTRODUCTION.  XI 

opened  not  my  mouth,  because  thou  didst  it. 
Can  you  say  the  same  ?  —  that  the  trial  of  your 
faith,  being  much  more  precious  than  of  gold, 
that  perisheth,  though  it  be  tried  with  fire,  might 
be  found  unto  praise,  and  honor,  and  glory,  at 
the  appearing  of  Jesus  Christ ;  whom,  having  not 
seen,  you  love ;  in  whom,  though  now  you  see 
him  not,  yet,  believing,  you  rejoice  with  joy  un- 
speakable and  full  of  glory.  Is  this  true  of  you  ? 
Is  Christ  in  you  the  hope  of  glory  ?  Does  your 
soul  rest  on  him,  cleave  to  him,  as  its  sole  hope 
of  salvation  ?  Look  to  Mount  Calvary.  Do  you 
view  him,  who  bleeds  there,  as  the  Lamb  of  God, 
suffering  vicariously  for  you  ?  Do  you  see  how 
Divine  justice  is  there  vindicated  ?  Do  you  see 
a  flood  of  glory,  that  illuminates  heaven  and  earth, 
pouring  from  that  rude  cross  ?  "  My  Lord  and 
my  God !  "  —  Is  that  the  profession  of  your  faith  ? 
Does  Christ,  as  your  atoning  and  interceding 
High-Priest,  sway  your  soul  supremely  and  irre- 
sistibly ? 

It  is  your  hope — it  is  mine  too  —  that  you 
are  a  Christian.  But  to  the  Christian  Christ  is 
all  in  all.  These  sufferings  of  yours  should  serve 
as  a  constant  memento  of  Christ's  sufferings. 
Ponder  upon  the  crucifixion,  till  you  can  honestly 
say,  —  God  forbid  that  I  should  glory,  save  in  the 
cross  of  our  Lord  Jesus   Christ,  by  whom  the 


XU  INTRODUCTION. 

world  is  crucified  unto  me,  and  I  unto  the  world. 
Here  is  a  twofold  crucifixion,  that  of  Christ,  and 
through  him,  the  mutual  crucifixion  of  the  world 
and  the  believer.  And  what  is  here  meant  by 
the  world  ?  All  objects  of  unlawful  desire.  And 
what  by  crucifixion  to  it  ?  The  slaying  of  world- 
liness.  And  how  is  this  effected  through  Christ, 
or  his  cross?  It  is  by  virtue  of  that  union,  which 
brings  the  believer  into  the  fellowship  of  Christ's 
sufferings,  being  made  conformable  unto  his 
death.  Just  in  proportion  as  you  obtain  a  spir- 
itual discernment  of  Christ  and  his  cross,  will 
you,  by  a  sanctified  sympathy,  die  unto  sin,  and 
live  unto  righteousness.  The  Christian  may 
become,  ought  to  become,  so  bound  to  his  Lord, 
that  he  shall  seem  identified  with  him  in  the  cru- 
cifixion, as  it  were,  nailed  himself  to  the  cross. 
By  the  cross  he  is,  to  be  sure,  freed  from  the 
punishment  of  sin  ;  but  he  is  by  it  also  freed 
from  what  is  unspeakably  more  to  be  dreaded, 
the  power  of  sin. 

My  friend,  can  you  say,  in  sincerity,  I  am  cru- 
cified with  Christ ;  nevertheless,  I  live  ;  yet  not 
I,  but  Christ  liveth  in  me  ?  Then  must  you 
have  seen  how  righteously  you  were  condemned 
by  your  Sovereign  ;  you  must  have  felt  how  im- 
potent you  were  in  yourself;  and  you  must  have 
had    convincing   experience    of   justification   by 


INTRODUCTION.  Xlll 

faith  alone.  Your  assurance  you  find  gradually 
strengthened.  You  cry,  Lord,  I  believe  ;  help 
thou  mine  unbelief. 

You  speak  of  a  remaining  disposition  at  times 
to  murmur.  Guard  well  against  it.  Humble 
yourself  under  the  mighty  hand  of  God,  casting 
all  your  care  upon  him,  for  he  careth  for  you. 
He  knows  infinitely  well  what  is  best  for  you. 
Your  physician  may  often  mistake  your  case,  but 
God  never.  Nothing  comes  from  him,  that  be- 
trays want  of  skill,  or  that  proves  pernicious. 
Yet  whom  the  Lord  loveth,  he  chasteneth  ;  and 
scourgeth  every  son  whom  he  receiveth.  Take 
then  this  allotment,  much  as  it  may  disappoint, 
and  in  various  ways  try  you,  take  it  as  a  pater- 
nal dispensation,  and  bless  God  that  he  has  so 
ordered  it. 

Tribulation  worketh  patience.  This  is  quite 
foreign  to  apathy.  Stoicism  forms  no  part  of 
Christianity.  Not  to  feel  at  all  is  no  proof  of 
submission ;  nor  is  it  proof  that  a  person  is  not 
submissive  because  he  feels  deeply.  Nor  does 
this  Christian  virtue  exclude  all  desire  and  effort 
for  relief.  Our  great  Exemplar  fell  on  his  face, 
and  prayed,  saying,  —  O  my  Father,  if  it  be  pos- 
sible, let  this  cup  pass  from  me ;  nevertheless, 
not  as  I  will,  but  as  thou  wilt  There  is  the 
great  point,  after  all  and  above  all,  a  cheerful, 


XIV  INTRODUCTION. 

complete,  filial  surrender.     "  Relieve  and  restore, 

0  God,  if  my  own  good  permit  it ;  if  the  good 
of  others  permit  it,  if  thine  own  glory  permit  it, 
do  thou  spare  and  heal  me  ;  nevertheless,  not  as 

1  will,  but  as  thou  wilt."  Such  must  be  your 
feeling  and  your  prayer,  when,  like  Christ,  you 
are  in  an  agony,  and  like  him  are  resigned. 

Let  patience  have  her  perfect  work.  This 
sickness  may  prove  a  peculiarly  long  and  trying 
one.  It  may  be,  that  an  incurable  disease  has 
been  sent  upon  you.  Your  sufferings  may  be 
greatly  multiplied  in  number  and  intensity.  But 
that  will  not  furnish  apology  for  one  murmur. 
Be  watchful  against  exhibiting  fretfulness  or  peev- 
ishness to  those  about  you.  Let  not  the  Chris- 
tian name  be  wounded  in  this  room.  Watch  and 
pray  that  you  may  suppress  all  inward  risings  of 
discontent.  It  is  God  who  has  closed  this  door 
upon  you,  and  it  is  for  a  private  conference,  and 
perhaps  a  long  one.  He  now  inquires,  whether 
you  are  truly  his  child  ;  whether,  in  full  view  of 
the  rod  that  is  raised,  you  will  say,  It  is  the 
Lord,  let  him  do  what  seemeth  him  good  ;  wheth- 
er, in  reference  to  suffering  more  severely  or  less 
severely,  for  a  longer  or  a  shorter  time,  whether 
to  die  now,  or  to  recover,  you  can  calmly  say, 
Thy  will  be  done.  The  pliant  vine  is  pruned ; 
and  it  weeps,  indeed,  yet  is  it  the  more  fruitful, 


INTRODUCTION.  XV 

while  the  thorn-tree  stands  armed  against  all  ap- 
proaches. The  knife  does  not  change  its  nature, 
and  the  very  dews  of  heaven  only  render  it  the 
more  vigorously  repulsive.  Herein  is  my  Father 
glorified,  that  ye  bring  forth  much  fruit. 

But,  however  protracted  and  severe  your  suf- 
ferings, stay  your  mind  upon  the  promise,  —  As 
thy  days,  so  shall  thy  strength  be,  —  and  you  will 
find  this  continued  assurance, —  The  Lord  will 
command  his  loving-kindness  in  the  day-time  ; 
and  in  the  night  his  song  shall  be  with  me,  and 
my  prayer  unto  the  God  of  my  life.  The  Jewish, 
Rabbies  repeat  a  tradition,  that  David  had  a  harp 
suspended  at  the  head  of  his  bed  ;  and  that, 
whenever  the  north  wind  blew  upon  it  at  night, 
it  yielded  the  most  agreeable  music.  Though  a 
figment  of  the  Talmud,  this  contains  symboli- 
cally a  pleasing  truth.  The  severest  blasts  which 
God  sends  upon  the  good  man,  only  awaken  in 
his  soul  the  harmony  of  sanctified  emotions. 

"  0,  may  thy  heart  in  tune  be  found, 
Like  David's  harp,  of  solemn  sound." 

The  pains  you  now  feel  are  sharp  monitors  of 
your  frailty.  Are  you  ready  for  the  issue  ?  Are 
you  willing  to  die  to-day  ?  Can  you,  in  the 
calmness  of  Christian  confidence,  say,  —  Father, 
into  thy  hands  I  commend  my  spirit,  —  Lord  Je- 
sus, receive  my  spirit  ?    Tell  me  now,  deliberately, 


XVI  INTRODUCTION. 

whether  you  cannot  say,  —  I  have  a  desire  to 
depart,  and  to  be  with  Christ,  which  is  far  better  ? 
—  That  yes,  you  would  not  exchange  for  ten 
thousand  worlds.  There  is  reason  to  think,  that 
this  room  may  prove  the  ante-chamber  of  heaven. 
What  is  death  to  the  believer  ?  It  is  the  begin- 
ning of  eternal  life.  It  is  only  opening  the  door 
to  let  a  prisoner  of  hope  out  into  the  pure  air  and 
sunlight  of  heaven.  It  is  sending  a  weary  pil- 
grim home  to  his  everlasting  rest.  It  is  the  cor- 
onation day  of  one,  who  shall  reign  with  Christ 
for  ever.  O  death !  where  is  thy  sting  ?  O 
grave  !  where  is  thy  victory  ? 

Now  the  God  of  peace,  that  brought  again  from 
the  dead  our  Lord  Jesus,  that  great  Shepherd  of 
the  sheep,  through  the  blood  of  the  everlasting 
covenant,  make  you  perfect  in  every  good  work 
to  do  his  will,  working  in  you  that  which  is  well 
pleasing  in  his  sight,  through  Jesus  Christ  ;  to 
whom  be  glory,  for  ever  and  ever.     Amen. 


SONGS  IN  THE  NIGHT. 


PRAYER  FOR  THE  SICK. 

"  Is  any  sick  among  you  ?  let  him  call  for  the  elders  of  the  church  ;  and  let 
them  pray  over  him."  —  James  v.  14. 

O  Lord,  our  strength  and  righteousness, 
Our  hope  and  refuge  in  distress, 

Our  Saviour  and  our  God  ! 
See  here,  a  helpless  sinner  see  ; 
Weak  and  in  pain  he  looks  to  thee, 

For  healing  in  thy  blood. 

In  sickness  make  thou  all  his  bed, 
Thy  hand  support  his  fainting  head, 

His  feeble  soul  defend  ; 
Teach  him  on  thee  to  cast  his  care, 
And  all  his  grief  and  burden  bear, 

And  love  him  to  the  end. 

If  now  thou  wilt  his  soul  require, 
O,  sit  as  a  refiner's  fire, 

And  purge  it  first  from  sin  ! 
2 


18  H  Y  31  N  S  . 

Thy  love  hath  quicker  wings  than  Death, 
The  fulness  of  thy  Spirit  breathe, 
And  bring  thy  nature  in. 

If  in  the  vale  of  tears  thy  will 
Appoints  him  to  continue  still, 

O,  sanctify  his  pain  ! 
And  let  him  patiently  submit 
To  suffer  as  thy  love  sees  fit, 

And  never  once  complain. 

O,  let  him  look  to  thee  alone, 
That  all  thy  will  on  him  be  done  ! 

His  only  pleasure  be, 
Alike  resigned  to  live  or  die, 
As  most  thy  name  may  glorify, 

To  live  or  die  to  thee. 

Wesley. 


SCHOOL  OF   SUFFERING. 

"  In  the  day  when  I  cried  thou  answeredst  me,  and  strengthenedst  me  with 
strength  in  my  soul."  —  Psalm  cxxxriii.  3. 

Saviour  !  beneath  thy  yoke 

My  wayward  heart  doth  pine  ; 
All  unaccustomed  to  the  stroke 
Of  love  divine : 
Thy  chastisements,  my  God,  are  hard  to  bear, 
Thy  cross  is  heavy  for  frail  flesh  to  wear. 


HYMNS.  19 

"  Perishing  child  of  clay  ! 

Thy  sighing  I  have  heard  ; 
Long  have  I  marked  thy  evil  way, 
How  thou  hast  erred  : 
Yet  fear  not,  —  by  my  own  most  holy  name 
I  will  shed  healing  through  thy  sin-sick  frame." 

Praise  to  thee,  gracious  Lord  ! 

I  fain  would  be  at  rest ; 
O,  now  fulfil  thy  faithful  word, 
And  make  me  blest  ! 
My  soul  would  lay  her  heavy  burden  down, 
And  take  with  joyfulness  the  promised  crown. 

"  Stay,  thou  short-sighted  child  ! 

There  is  much  first  to  do  ; 
Thy  heart,  so  long  by  sin  defiled, 
I  must  renew  : 
Thy  will  must  here  be  taught  to  bend  to  mine, 
Or  the  sweet  peace  of  heaven  can  ne'er  be  thine.'' 

Yea,  Lord,  but  thou  canst  soon 

Perfect  thy  work  in  me, 
Till,  like  the  pure,  calm  summer  moon, 
I  shine  by  thee,  — 
A  moment  shine,  that  all  thy  power  may  trace, 
Then  pass  in  stillness  to  my  heavenly  place. 

"  Ah  !  coward  soul,  confess 
Thou  shrinkest  from  my  cure, 


20  HYMNS. 

Thou  tremblest  at  the  sharp  distress 
Thou  must  endure  ;  — 
The  foes  on  eveiy  hand,  for  war  arrayed, 
The  thorny  path  in  tribulation  laid ;  — 

"  The  process  slow  of  years, 

The  discipline  of  life,  — 
Of  outward  woes  and  secret  tears, 
Sickness  and  strife,  — 
The  idols  taken  from  thee  one  by  one, 
Till  thou  canst  dare  to  live  with  me  alone. 

"  Some  gentle  souls  there  are 

Who  yield  unto  my  love, 
Who,  ripening  fast  beneath  my  care, 
I  soon  remove  : 
But  thou  stiff-necked  art,  and  hard  to  rule, 
Thou  must  stay  longer  in  affliction's  school." 

My  Maker  and  my  King  ! 
Is  this  thy  love  to  me  ? 

0  that  I  had  the  lightning's  wing, 
From  earth  to  flee  !  — 

How  can  I  bear  the  heavy  weight  of  woes, 
Thine  indignation  on  thy  creature  throws  ? 

"  Thou  canst  not,  O  my  child ! 
So  hear  my  voice  again ;  — 

1  will  bear  all  thy  anguish  wild, 

Thy  grief,  thy  pain  : 


HYMNS.  21 

My  arms  shall  be  around  thee  day  by  day, 

My  smile  shall  cheer  thee  on  thy  heavenward  way. 

"  In  sickness,  I  will  be 

Watching  beside  thy  bed  ; 
In  sorrow,  thou  shalt  lean  on  me 
Thy  aching  head : 
In  every  struggle  thou  shalt  conqueror  prove, 
Nor  death  itself  shall  sever  from  my  love." 

O  grace  beyond  compare  ! 

0  love  most  high  and  pure  ! 
Saviour  begin,  no  longer  spare,  — 

1  can  endure : 

Only  vouchsafe  thy  grace,  that  I  may  live 
Unto  thy  glory,  who  canst  so  forgive. 


MYSTERY  OF  CHASTISEMENT. 

"  We  glory  also  in  tribulations."  —  Rom.  v.  3. 

Within  this  leaf,  to  every  eye 
So  little  worth,  doth  hidden  lie 
Most  rare  and  subtile  fragrancy. 

Wouldst  thou  its  secret  strength  unbind  ? 
Crush  it,  and  thou  shalt  perfume  find, 
Sweet  as  Arabia's  spicy  wind. 


22  H  Y  M  N  S  . 

In  this  dull  stone,  so  poor,  and  bare 
Of  shape  or  lustre,  patient  care 
Will  find  for  thee  a  jewel  rare. 

But  first  must  skilful  hands  essay, 
With  file  and  flint,  to  clear  away 
The  film,  which  hides  its  fire  from  day. 

This  leaf?  this  stone  ?     It  is  thy  heart : 
It  must  be  crushed  by  pain  and  smart, 
It  must  be  cleansed  by  sorrow's  art,  — 

Ere  it  will  yield  a  fragrance  sweet, 
Ere  it  will  shine,  a  jewel  meet 
To  lay  before  thy  dear  Lord's  feet. 

S.    WlLBERFORCE. 


THE  REFINER'S  EIRE. 

'•  He  shall  sit  as  a  refiner  and  purifier  of  silver."  —  Mai.  iii.  3. 

He  that  from  dross  would  win  the  ore 
Bends  o'er  the  crucible  an  earnest  eye, 

The  subtile,  searching  process  to  explore, 

Lest  the  one  brilliant  moment  should  pass  by, 

When  in  the  molten,  silvery,  virgin  mass, 

He  meets  his  pictured  face  as  in  a  glass. 


H  Y  M  N  S  .  23 

Thus  in  God's  furnace  are  his  people  tried  ; 

Thrice  happy  they  who  to  the  end  endure  ; 
But  who  the  fiery  trial  may  abide  ? 

Who  from  the  crucible  come  forth  so  pure, 
That  He,  whose  eyes  of  flame  look  through  the  whole, 
May  see  his  image  perfect  in  the  soul  ? 

Nor  with  an  evanescent  glimpse  alone, 

As  in  that  mirror  the  refiner's  face  ; 
But,  stamped  with  Heaven's  broad  signet,  there  be  shown 

Immanuel's  features  full  of  truth  and  grace  ; 
And  round  that  seal  of  love  this  motto  be, 
"  Not  for  a  moment,  but —  Eternity  !  " 

Montgomery. 


GOD  KNOWETH  WHAT  IS  BEST. 

For  who  knoweth  what  is  good  for  man  in  this  life  ?  "  —  Eccl.  vi.  12. 

What,  many  times  I  musing  asked,  is  man, 

If  grief  and  care 
Keep  far  from  him  ?  he  knows  not  what  he  can, 

What  cannot,  bear. 

He,  till  the  fire  hath  purged  him,  doth  remain 

Mixed  all  with  dross  : 
To  lack  the  loving  discipline  of  pain, 

Were  endless  loss. 


24  HYMNS. 

Yet  when  my  Lord  did  ask  me  on  what  side 

I  were  content 
The  grief,  whereby  I  must  be  purified, 

To  me  were  sent, 

As  each  imagined  anguish  did  appear, 

Each  withering  bliss 
Before  my  soul,  I  cried,  "  O,  spare  me  here  ! 

O,  no,  not  this  !  " 

Like  one  that  having  need  of,  deep  within, 

The  surgeon's  knife, 
Would  hardly  bear  that  it  should  graze  the  skin, 

Though  for  his  life. 

Nay,  then,  but  He,  who  best  doth  understand, 

Both  what  we  need 
And  what  can  bear,  did  take  my  case  in  hand, 

Nor  crying  heed. 


LOOKING  UNTO  JESUS. 

Looking  unto  Jesus,  the  author  and  finisher  of  our  faith."  —  Heb.  xii.  2. 

O  my  soul !  what  means  this  sadness  ? 
Wherefore  art  thou  thus  cast  down  ? 


HYMNS.  25 

Let  thy  grief  be  turned  to  gladness  ; 
Bid  thy  restless  fear  be  gone  ; 

Look  to  Jesus, 
And  rejoice  in  his  dear  name. 

Though  ten  thousand  ills  beset  thee, 
Though  thy  heart  is  stained  with  sin, 

Jesus  lives,  he  '11  ne'er  forget  thee, 
He  will  make  thee  pure  within ; 

He  is  faithful 
To  perform  his  gracious  word. 

Though  distresses  now  attend  thee, 
And  thou  tread'st  the  thorny  road, 

His  right  hand  shall  still  defend  thee  ; 
Soon  he  '11  bring  thee  home  to  God : 

Thou  shalt  praise  him,  — 
Praise  the  great  Redeemer's  name. 

O  that  I  could  now  adore  him, 

Like  the  heavenly  host  above, 
Who  for  ever  bow  before  him, 
And  unceasing  sing  his  love  ! 

Happy  spirits  ! 
When  shall  I  your  chorus  join  ? 

Fawcett. 


26  HYMNS. 

JUST  AS  THOU  ART. 

"  Him  that  cometh  unto  me,  I  vrill  in  no  wise  cast  out."  —  John  vi.  37. 

Just  as  thou  art,  —  without  one  trace 
Of  love,  or  joy,  or  inward  grace 
Or  meetness  for  the  heavenly  place,  — 
O  guilty  sinner,  come  ! 

Thy  sins  I  bore  on  Calvary's  tree, 
The  stripes,  thy  due,  were  laid  on  me, 
That  peace  and  pardon  might  be  free  ;  — 
O  wretched  sinner,  come  ! 

Burdened  with  guilt,  wouldst  thou  be  blest  ? 
Trust  not  the  world,  it  gives  no  rest ; 
I  bring  relief  to  hearts  oppressed ; 

O  weary  sinner,  come  ! 

Come,  leave  thy  burdens  at  the  cross ; 
Count  all  thy  gains  but  empty  dross ; 
My  grace  repays  all  earthly  loss ; 

O  needy  sinner,  come  ! 

Come,  hither  bring  thy  boding  fears, 
Thy  aching  heart,  thy  bursting  tears ; 
'T  is  Mercy's  voice  salutes  thine  ears ; 

O  trembling  sinner,  come  ! 

"  The  Spirit  and  the  Bride  say,  Come  !  " 
Rejoicing  saints  reecho,  Come  ! 
Who  faints,  who  thirsts,  who  will,  may  come ; 
Thv  Saviour  bids  thee  come  ! 


HYMNS.  27 

JUST  AS  I  AM. 

1  Jesus,  thou  son  of  David,  have  mercy  on  me."  —  Mark  x.  48 . 

Just  as  I  am,  —  without  one  plea, 
But  that  thy  blood  was  shed  for  me, 
And  that  thou  bid'st  me  come  to  thee, 

O  Lamb  of  God,  T  come ! 

Just  as  I  am,  —  and  waiting  not 
To  rid  my  soul  of  one  dark  blot, 
To  thee,  whose  blood  can  cleanse  each  spot, 
O  Lamb  of  God,  I  come  ! 

Just  as  I  am, —  though  tossed  about 
With  many  a  conflict,  many  a  doubt, 
"  Fightings  within,  and  fears  without," 
O  Lamb  of  God,  I  come  ! 

Just  as  I  am,  —  poor,  wretched,  blind  ; 
Sight,  riches,  healing  of  the  mind, 
Yea,  all  I  need  in  thee  to  find, 

O  Lamb  of  God,  I  come ! 

Just  as  I  am,  —  thou  wilt  receive  ; 
Wilt  welcome,  pardon,  cleanse,  relieve  ; 
Because  thy  promise  I  believe, 

0  Lamb  of  God,  I  come  ! 

Just  as  I  am,  —  thy  love  unknown 
Has  broken  every  barrier  down  ; 
Now,  to  be  thine,  yea,  thine  alone, 

O  Lamb  of  God,  I  come  ! 


28  HYMNS. 


JESUS  AND  THE  SOUL. 


"I  know  whom  I  have  believed,  and  am  persuaded  that  he  is  able  to  keep 
that  which  I  have  committed  unto  him  against  that  day."  —  2Tim.  i.  12. 


Thus  saith  Jesus  :  "  I  will  keep 
In  safety  my  defenceless  sheep, 
From  sin,  and  endless  misery  ; 
Seeking  soul,  I  will  keep  thee." 

Lord,  I  believe  thy  word  is  sure, 
But  I  am  ignorant  and  poor ; 
My  goodness  reaches  not  to  thee  ; 
For  mercy's  sake  wilt  thou  help  me  ? 

"  I  passed  by  the  rich  and  brave  ; 
The  needy  soul  I  came  to  save. 
The  poor  in  spirit  blessed  be  ; 
O,  trust  me,  then !  I  will  keep  thee." 

But,  Lord,  I  have  a  deeper  wound  ; 
An  evil  heart  within  I  've  found  : 
My  nature  's  enmity  with  thee  ; 
Offended  King,  wilt  thou  keep  me  ? 

"  Of  old  thy  evil  I  beheld, 
Yet  was  with  love  and  pity  filled  : 
I  therefore  died  to  set  thee  free. 
For  my  own  sake  I  will  keep  thee." 


HYMNS.  29 

Yea,  I  have  proved  thy  power,  my  God, 
And  felt  thy  efficacious  blood  : 
But  sin  remains,  though  it  I  flee  ; 
Wilt  thou  preserve  backsliding  me  ? 

"  Before  I  wrought  upon  thy  will, 

I  knew  how  treacherous  thou  wouldst  deal ; 

I  did  thy  base  transgressions  see, 

And  yet  resolved  I  would  keep  thee. 

But  thou  shalt  conqueror  be  at  length ; 

Till  then  I  will  renew  thy  strength  : 

Sin  shall  not  have  the  victory : 

Only  believe,  —  I  will  keep  thee." 

Permit  me  once  again  to  speak ; 
Sometimes,  thy  face  in  tears  I  seek ; 
And  oft  a  gloomy  veil  I  see  : 
Canst  thou  be  wroth,  and  yet  keep  me  ? 

"  Let,  then,  this  answer  thee  suffice ; 
In  anger  I  do  not  chastise. 
More  fervent  be  thy  ciy,  thy  plea, 
And,  as  I  live,  I  will  keep  thee. 
But  if  thou  dost  forsake  thy  God, 
Then  will  I  visit  with  the  rod. 
I  may  correct,  to  a  degree, 
Nevertheless,  I  will  keep  thee." 

But  ah  !  I  feel  temptation  strong ; 
And,  if  my  journey  should  be  long, 


30  HYMNS. 

I  fear  I  shall  dishonor  thee. 
Wilt  thou  continue  to  keep  me  ? 

"  Can  I  forsake  my  heart's  delight  ? 
Thy  end  is  precious  in  my  sight. 
I  conquered  death  on  Calvary, 
And  from  its  sting  I  will  keep  thee. 
I  will  be  near  thy  dying  bed ; 
Amid  the  waves  sustain  thy  head  ; 
My  rod,  my  staff,  thy  help  shall  be ; 
In  perfect  peace  I  will  keep  thee. 
I  am  the  ark  that  goes  before, 
To  guide  the  pilgrims  safe  to  shore ; 
At  my  rebuke  shall  Jordan  flee  ; 
In  life,  in  death,  I  will  keep  thee. 
Then,  then,  my  sister,  then,  my  spouse, 
I  will  fulfil  my  sacred  vows, 
And  thou  in  bliss  my  glory  see, 
When  on  my  throne  I  Ve  placed  thee." 

It  is  enough.     My  Lord  !  my  Love  ! 
The  hills,  the  mountains,  must  remove  ; 
But  I  shall  still  unshaken  be  ; 
Thy  word  is  passed,  —  Thou  wilt  keep  me. 


HYMNS.  31 


SUBMISSION. 

"  The  Lord  gave,  and  the  Lord  hath  taken  away  ;  blessed  be  the  name  of  the 
Lord."  —  Job  i.  21. 

Submissive  to  thy  will,  my  God, 

I  all  to  thee  resign, 
And  bow  before  thy  chastening  rod  ; 

I  mourn,  but  not  repine. 

Why  should  my  foolish  heart  complain, 
When  wisdom,  truth,  and  love 

Direct  the  stroke,  inflict  the  pain, 
And  point  to  joys  above. 

How  short  are  all  my  sufferings  here, 

How  needful  every  cross  ; 
Away,  my  unbelieving  fear, 

Nor  call  my  gain  my  loss. 

Then  give,  O  Lord,  or  take  away, 

I  '11  bless  thy  sacred  name  ; 
Jesus,  to-day,  and  yesterday, 

And  ever,  is  the  same. 

Haweis. 


HE  WHOM  CHRIST  LOVES. 

"Lord,  behold,  he  whom  thou  lovest  is  sick."  —  John  xi.  3. 

Saviour  !  I  can  welcome  sickness, 
If  these  words  be  said  of  me  : 


32  HYMNS. 

Can  rejoice,  'midst  pain  and  weakness, 
If  I  am  but  loved  by  thee  : 

Love  so  precious 
Balm  for  every  wound  will  be. 

Thou,  who  waitest  not  for  fitness 
In  the  souls  thy  blood  has  saved, 

Let  thy  Spirit  now  bear  witness, 
He  this  sentence  has  engraved,  — 

Love  so  precious 
Gives  me  all  my  prayers  have  craved. 

Though  that  love  send  days  of  sadness, 

In  a  life  so  brief  as  this, 
It  prepares  me  days  of  gladness, 

And  a  life  of  perfect  bliss  ; 
Love  so  precious 

Bids  me  every  fear  dismiss. 


WHY  AM  I  STRICKEN? 


"  I  will  say  unto  God,  Do  not  condemn  me ;  show  me  wherefore  thou  contend- 
est  with  me."  —  Job  x.  2. 


O  Thou  !  whose  gently  chastening  hand 

In  mercy  deals  the  blow, 
Make  but  thy  servant  understand 

Wherefore  thou  lay'st  me  low. 


HYMNS.  33 

I  ask  thee  not  the  rod  to  spare, 

While  thus  thy  love  I  see  ; 
But,  O,  let  every  suffering  bear 

Some  message,  Lord>  from  thee  ! 

Perhaps  an  erring  wish  I  knew 

To  read  my  future  fate, 
And  thou  wouldst  say,  "  Thy  days  are  few, 

And  vain  thy  best  estate  !  " 

Perhaps  thy  glory  seemed  my  choice, 

Whilst  I  secured  my  own, 
And  thus  my  kind  reprover's  voice 

Tells  me  he  works  alone. 

O,  silence  thou  this  murmuring  will, 

Nor  bid  thy  rough  wind  stay, 
Till  with  a  furnace  hotter  still 

My  dross  is  purged  away ! 


"GOD  IS  LOVE." 

1  John  iv.  8. 

I  cannot  always  trace  the  way 

Where  thou,  Almighty  One,  dost  move  ; 
But  I  can  always,  always  say, 
That  God  is  love. 

3 


34  HYMNS. 

When  fear  her  chilling  mantle  flings 

O'er  earth,  my  soul  to  heaven  above, 
As  to  her  sanctuary,  springs, 
For  God  is  love, 

When  mystery  clouds  my  darkened  path, 

I  '11  check  my  dread,  my  doubts  reprove ; 
In  this  my  soul  sweet  comfort  hath, 
That  God  is  love. 

The  entanglement  which  restless  thought, 

Mistrust,  and  idle  reasoning  wove, 
Are  thus  unravelled  and  unwrought,  — - 
For  God  is  love. 

Yes,  God  is  love,  —  a  thought  like  this 
Can  every  gloomy  thought  remove, 
And  turn  all  tears,  all  woes,  to  bliss, 
For  God  is  love. 

Bowring. 


PILGRIM!  IS  THY  JOURNEY  DREAR? 

"  Leave  me  not,  neither  forsake  me,  0  God  of  my  salvation !  "  —  Ps.  xxvii. 

Pilgrim  !  is  thy  journey  drear  ? 

Are  its  lights  extinct  for  ever  ? 
Still  suppress  the  rising  fear,  — 

God  forsakes  the  righteous,  never ! 


HYMNS.  35 

Storms  may  gather  o'er  thy  path, 

All  the  ties  of  life  may  sever ; 
Still,  amid  the  fear  and  death, 

God  forsakes  the  righteous,  never ! 

Pain  may  rack  thy  wasting  frame, 
Health  desert  thy  couch  for  ever, 

Faith  still  burns  with  deathless  flame, 
God  forsakes  the  righteous,  never ! 

Mrs.  Southey. 


STRENGTH  ACCORDING  TO  THE  DAY. 

"  As  thy  days,  so  shall  thy  strength  be."  —  Dent,  xxxiii.  25. 

Wait,  my  soul,  upon  the  Lord, 
To  his  gracious  promise  flee, 

Laying  hold  upon  his  word, 

"  As  thy  day,  thy  strength  shall  be." 

If  the  sorrows  of  thy  case 
Seem  peculiar  still  to  thee, 

God  has  promised  needful  grace,  — 
"  As  thy  day,  thy  strength  shall  be." 

Days  of  trial,  days  of  grief, 
In  succession  thou  mayst  see  ; 

This  is  still  thy  sweet  relief,  — 

"  As  thy  day,  thy  strength  shall  be." 


36  HYMNS. 

Rock  of  Ages,  I  'm  secure, 

With  thy  promise  full  and  free  ; 

Faithful,  positive,  and  sure, 
44  As  thy  day,  thy  strength  shall  be." 


TRIALS  A  BLESSING. 

"  Count  it  all  joy  when  ye  fall  into  divers  temptations."  —  James  i.  2. 

'T  is  my  happiness  below, 

Not  to  live  without  the  cross, 
But  the  Saviour's  power  to  know, 

Sanctifying  every  loss. 
Trials  must  and  will  befall, 

But  with  humble  faith  to  see 
Love  inscribed  upon  them  all, 

This  is  happiness  to  me. 

God  in  Israel  sows  the  seeds 

Of  affliction,  pain,  and  toil ; 
These  spring  up  and  choke  the  weeds, 

Which  would  else  o'erspread  the  soil. 
Trials  make  the  promise  sweet, 

Trials  give  new  life  to  prayer, 
Trials  bring  me  to  his  feet, 

Lay  me  low,  and  keep  me  there. 

Did  I  meet  no  trials  here, 
No  correction  by  the  way, 


HYMNS.  37 

Might  I  not,  with  reason,  fear 

I  should  prove  a  castaway  ? 
Worldlings  may  escape  the  rod, 

Sunk  in  earthly,  vain  delight ; 
But  the  true-born  child  of  God 

Must  not,  would  not,  if  he  might. 

Cowper. 


THANKFUL  AND  UNTHANKFUL. 

'  For  as  he  thinketh  in  his  heart,  so  is  he."  —  Prov,  xxiii  7. 

Some  murmur  when  their  sky  is  clear, 

And  wholly  bright  to  view, 
If  one  small  speck  of  dark  appear 

In  their  great  heaven  of  blue  ; 
And  some  with  thankful  love  are  filled, 

If  but  one  streak  of  light, 
One  ray  of  God's  good  mercy,  gild 

The  darkness  of  their  night. 

In  palaces  are  hearts  that  ask, 

In  discontent  and  pride, 
Why  life  is  such  a  dreary  task, 

And  all  good  things  denied : 
And  hearts  in  poorest  huts  admire 

How  love  has  in  their  aid 
(Love,  that  not  ever  seems  to  tire) 

Such  rich  provision  made. 

R.  C.  Trench. 


HYMNS. 


"BE  OF  GOOD   CHEER." 

"  Now  no  chastening  for  the  present  seemeth  to  be  joyous,  but  grievous  ;  nev- 
ertheless, afterward  it  yieldeth  the  peaceable  fruit  of  righteousness  unto  them 
which  are  exercised  thereby.  Wherefore  lift  up  the  hands  which  hang 
down."  —  Heb.  xii.  11, 12. 

O,  cheer  thee,  cheer  thee,  suffering  saint ! 
Though  worn  with  chastening,  be  not  faint ! 
And,  though  thy  night  of  pain  seem  long, 
Cling  to  thy  Lord,  —  in  him  be  strong ; 
He  marks,  he  numbers  every  tear, 
Not  one  faint  sigh  escapes  his  ear. 

O,  cheer  thee,  cheer  thee  !  now 's  the  hour 
To  him  to  lift  thine  eye  for  power, 
His  all-sufficiency  to  show, 
Now  in  extremity  of  woe  ; 
While  in  the  furnace  to  lie  still,  — 
This  is,  indeed,  to  do  his  will. 

Then  cheer  thee,  cheer  thee  !  though  the  flame 

Consume  thy  wasting,  suffering  frame, 

His  gold  shall  suffer  harm  nor  loss, 

He  will  but  purge  away  the  dross, 

And  fit  it,  graced  with  many  a  gem, 

To  form  his  glorious  diadem. 

And  he  will  cheer  thee,  he  will  calm 
Thy  pain  intense  with  heavenly  balm, 
Show  thee  the  martyr's  white-robed  throng, 
Thy  place  prepared,  that  host  among ; 


HYMNS.  39 

That  weight  of  glory  will  o'erpower 
The  anguish  of  life's  suffering  hour. 

Yes,  he  will  cheer  thee  ;  —  he  will  prove 
The  soul,  encircled  by  his  love, 
Can  meekly,  'midst  her  anguish,  say,  — 
"  Still  will  I  trust  him,  though  he  slay  "  ; 
And  he  will  make  his  words  thine  own,  — 
"  Father !  thy  will,  not  mine,  be  done." 


A  PRAYER  IN  SICKNESS. 


"  Truly  my  soul  waiteth.  upon  God :  from  him  cometh  my  salvation."  —  Ps. 
Ixii.  1. 


O  Thou,  all  holy,  wise,  and  just, 
Whom  heaven  and  earth  obey ; 
Thou  only  object  of  my  trust, 
Whose  word  can  sink  me  into  dust, 
Or  raise  my  feeble  clay,  — 

If  now  the  last  decisive  day 

Of  my  frail  life  draw  near, 
My  soul,  while  fainting  with  dismay, 
From  rising  crimes  in  dread  array 
Do  thou  with  mercy  cheer. 


Or,  if  my  past  iniquity 
My  dying  hour  molest, 


40  HYMNS. 

Yet,  O,  then  save  me  when  I  die, 
Nor  to  my  parting  soul  deny 
An  entrance  into  rest. 

But  if  thy  boundless  grace  should  spare 

My  fleeting  life  again, 
Let  sin  no  more  my  soul  ensnare, 
But  love  and  warm  devotion  there 

In  blissful  union  reign. 

Beddome. 


MEDITATION. 

Commune  with  your  own  heart  upon  your  bed,  and  be  still."  —  Ps.  iv.  4 

When  restless  on  my  bed  I  lie, 
Still  courting  sleep,  which  still  will  fly, 
Then  shall  reflection's  brighter  power 
Illume  the  lone  and  midnight  hour. 

If  hushed  the  breeze  and  calm  the  tide, 
Soft  will  the  stream  of  memory  glide  ; 
And  all  the  past,  a  gentle  train, 
Waked  by  remembrance,  live  again. 

Perhaps  that  anxious  friend  I  trace, 
Beloved,  till  life's  last  throb  shall  cease, 
Whose  voice  first  taught  a  Saviour's  worth, 
And  future  bliss  unknown  on  earth. 


HYMNS.  41 

His  faithful  counsel,  tender  care, 
Unwearied  love,  and  humble  prayer, — 
O,  these  still  claim  the  grateful  tear, 
And  all  my  drooping  courage  cheer. 

If  loud  the  wind,  the  tempest  high, 
And  darkness  wraps  the  sullen  sky, 
I  muse  on  life's  tempestuous  sea, 
And  sigh,  O  Lord,  to  come  to  thee. 

Tossed  on  the  deep  and  swelling  wave, 
O,  mark  my  trembling  soul,  and  save  ! 
Give  to  my  view  that  haven  near, 
Where  thou  wilt  chase  each  grief  and  fear. 

Noel. 


CORRECTION  NEEDED. 

"  Wherefore  doth  a  liying  man  complain,  a  man  for  the  punishment  of  his 
sins?"  —  Lam.  iii.  39. 

Wish  not,  dear  friends,  my  pain  away ; 

Wish  me  a  wise  and  thankful  heart, 
With  God,  in  all  my  griefs,  to  stay, 

Nor  from  his  loved  correction  start. 

The  dearest  offering  he  can  crave, 
His  portion  in  our  souls  to  prove, 

What  is  it  to  the  gift  he  gave, 
The  only  Son  of  his  dear  love  ? 


42  HYMNS. 

In  life's  long  sickness,  evermore 
Our  thoughts  are  tossing  to  and  fro  ; 

We  change  our  posture  o'er  and  o'er, 
But  cannot  rest,  nor  cheat  our  woe. 

Were  it  not  better  to  lie  still, 

Let  him  strike  home,  and  bless  the  rod  ? 
Never  so  safe  as  when  our  will 

Yields,  undiscerned  by  all,  to  God. 

Keble. 


THE  LEPER. 

"And,  behold,  there  came  a  leper  and  worshipped  him.  saying,  Lord,  if  thou 
wilt,  thou  canst  make  me  clean."  —  Matt.  viii.  2. 

Oft  as  the  leper's  case  I  read, 

My  own,  described,  I  feel ; 
Sin  is  a  leprosy,  indeed, 

Which  none  but  Christ  can  heal. 


Lord,  thou  canst  heal  me  if  thou  wilt, 
For  thou  canst  all  things  do  ; 

O,  cleanse  my  leprous  soul  from  guilt, 
My  filthy  heart  renew  ! 

Come,  lepers,  seize  the  present  hour, 
The  Saviour's  grace  to  prove ; 

He  can  relieve,  for  he  is  power, — 
He  will,  for  he  is  love. 


HYMNS.  43 


THE  SICK-ROOM. 


"  The  Lord  is  nigh  unto  all  them  that  call  upon  him,  to  all  that  call  upon 
him  in  truth."  —  Ps.  cxlv.  18. 


Watching,  through  the  silent  hours, 

By  the  unrefreshed  bed, 
Where  disease  arrays  his  powers, 

Whence  repose  is  banished,  — 
Where  time  halteth,  sad  and  slow, 
Thou  art  with  me,  Lord,  I  know. 

When  the  vital  forces  seem 
Dwindled  to  as  faint  a  spark 

As  the  taper's  sickly  gleam, 

Making  darkness  doubly  dark,  — 

Lord  !  I  bless  thee,  that  thou  art 

Near,  to  stay  the  sinking  heart. 

When  the  flame,  reviving,  burns 
Gently,  and,  at  sleep's  soft  touch, 

Anguish  yields,  and  hope  returns, 
Dove-like,  to  the  smoothed  couch,  — 

With  an  anxious,  deep-drawn  sigh, 

Lord,  I  praise  thee,  ever  nigh. 

In  the  dim,  religious  gloom, 

Where  "  expressive  silence  "  broods 
O'er  the  closely-curtained  room, 

Nor  a  stirring  breath  intrudes,  — 


44  HYMNS 


As  in  silent  prayer  I  kneel, 
Thou  art  present,  Lord,  I  feel. 

When  reluctant  hope  is  fled, 
When  the  pulses  beat  no  more, 

And  the  last  farewell  is  said, 
And  the  war  of  life  is  o'er,  — 

Lord,  both  the  spirit  and  the  dust 

Of  our  beloved,  to  thee  we  trust. 


CHASTISEMENT  MISIMPROVED. 

For  God  spsaketh  once,  yea,  twice,  yet  man  perceiveth  it  not."  —  Job  xxxiii.  11. 

How  oft,  upon  my  feverish  bed, 

By  pain  and  darkness  pressed, 
I  have  rejoiced,  with  thankful  heart, 

That  this  was  not  my  rest ; 
And  that  earth's  troubles  sure  were  given, 
To  fix  our  wayward  hearts  on  heaven. 

But  when  it  pleased  my  God,  who  sent 

Those  hours  of  wearying  pain, 
His  rod  in  mercy  to  withdraw, 

And  give  me  health  again, 
My  heart  earth's  trifles  still  would  prize, 
And  draw  my  wishes  from  the  skies. 





HYMNS.  45 

O,  what  a  sinful  heart  is  mine, 

Ungrateful  and  unwise, 
My  Saviour's  love  thus  to  neglect, 

His  chastenings  to  despise,  — 
And  please  this  weak,  frail  form  of  clay, 
Made  soon  to  fade  and  pass  away  ! 

I  have  no  strength,  I  have  no  power, 

One  good  resolve  to  keep  ; 
Will  the  great  Shepherd  turn  again 

His  wandering,  faithless  sheep  ; 
And  lead  me  from  delusive  toys, 
To  holy,  high,  and  endless  joys  ? 

I  dare  not  hope,  but  in  his  name, 

Who  came  to  seek  the  lost,  — 
Jesus,  O,  guide  me  with  thy  rod 

And  staff,  whate'er  the  cost ; 
Though  thou  mayst  bid  me  all  resign, 
O,  save  me,  Lord,  and^  own  me  thine ! 


SPIKITUAL  HEALING. 


"  And  Jesus  went  about  healing  all  manner  of  sickness,  and  all  manner  of 
disease  among  the  people."  —  Matt.  iv.  23. 


Ye  mourning  sinners,  here  disclose 
Your  deep  complaints,  your  various  woes ; 


46  HYMNS. 

Approach,  't  is  Jesus  ;  he  can  heal 
The  pains  which  mourning  sinners  feel. 

That  hand,  which  can  assuage 
The  burning  fever's  restless  stage ; 
That  hand,  omnipotent  and  kind, 
Can  cool  the  fever  of  the  mind. 

Dear  Lord,  we  wait  thy  healing  hand ; 
Diseases  fly  at  thy  command ; 
O,  let  thy  sovereign  touch  impart 
Life,  strength,  and  health  to  every  heart ! 

Doddridge. 


"WILT  THOU  BE  MADE  WHOLE." 

John  v.  6. 

Behold,  the  great  Physician  stands, 
Whose  skill  is  ever  sure  ; 

And  loud  he  calls  to  dying  men, 
And  free  he  offers  cure. 

And  will  ye  hear  his  gracious  voice, 
While  sore  diseased  ye  lie  ? 

Or  will  ye  all  his  grace  despise, 
And  trifle  till  ye  die  ? 


HYMNS.  47 

Blest  Jesus,  speak  the  healing  word, 

And  inward  vigor  give  ; 
Then,  raised  by  energy  divine, 

Shall  helpless  mortals  live. 


LOOK  AND  LIVE. 

"  As  Moses  lifted  up  the  serpent  in  the  wilderness,  even  so  must  the  Son  of 
Man  be  lifted  up  "  —  John  hi.  14. 

Sufferer  !  art  thou  conscience-stricken, 

Deeply  now  convinced  of  sin, 
Powerless  thy  dead  soul  to  quicken, 

By  the  serpent  stung  within  ? 
To  the  cross  look  up,  and  live, 
Life  and  health  one  look  can  give. 

Jesus,  on  that  cross  suspended, 

Died  to  expiate  thy  guilt ; 
Satisfied  God's  law  offended, 

Saved  thee  by  the  blood  he  spilt ; 
To  the  cross  look  up,  and  live, 
Life  and  health  one  look  can  give. 

God  will,  for  his  sake,  forgive  thee, 
Boldly  through  his  name  apply ; 

Perfect  soundness  he  will  give  thee, 
If  on  him  be  fixed  thine  eye  ; 

To  the  cross  look  up,  and  live, 

Life  and  health  one  look  can  give. 


48  HYMNS. 


JEHOVAH  ROPHI. 

"Iam  the  Lord  that  healeth  thee."  —  Exod.  xt.  26 

Heal  us,  Emmanuel !  here  we  are, 

Waiting  to  feel  thy  touch  ; 
Deep-wounded  souls  to  thee  repair 

And,  Saviour,  we  are  such. 

Our  faith  is  feeble,  we  confess, 

We  faintly  trust  thy  word  ; 
But  wilt  thou  pity  us  the  less  ? 

Be  that  far  from  thee,  Lord  ? 

Remember  him  who  once  applied, 

With  trembling,  for  relief ; 
"  Lord,  I  believe  !  "  with  tears  he  cried, 

"  O,  help  my  unbelief !  " 

She,  too,  who  touched  thee  in  the  press, 

And  healing  virtue  stole, 
Was  answered,  "  Daughter,  go  in  peace, 

Thy  faith  hath  made  thee  whole  " 

Concealed  amid  the  gathering  throng, 
She  would  have  shunned  thy  view, 

And  if  her  faith  was  firm  and  strong, 
Had  strong  misgivings,  too. 


HYMNS.  49 

Like  her,  with  hopes  and  fears  we  come, 

To  touch  thee,  if  we  may  ; 
O,  send  us  not  despairing  home, 

Send  none  unhealed  away  ! 

Cowper. 


CRYING  TO   GOD. 


"  0  Lord  God  of  my  salvation,  I  hare  cried  day  and  night  before  thee." 
-  Ps  lxxxviii.  1. 


Lord  God  of  my  salvation  ! 

To  thee,  to  thee  I  cry  ; 
O,  let  my  supplication 

Arrest  thine  ear  on  high ! 
Distresses  round  me  thicken, 

My  life  draws  nigh  the  grave  ; 
Descend,  O  Lord,  to  quicken, 

Descend,  my  soul  to  save  ! 

Thy  wrath  lies  hard  upon  me, 

Thy  billows  o'er  me  roll ; 
My  friends  all  seem  to  shun  me, 

And  foes  beset  my  soul ; 
Where'er  on  earth  I  turn  me, 

No  comforter  is  near ; 
Wilt  thou,  my  Father,  spurn  me  ? 

Wilt  thou  refuse  to  hear  ? 

4 


50  HYMNS. 

No  !  banished  and  heart-broken, 

My  soul  still  clings  to  thee  ; 
The  promise  thou  hast  spoken, 

Still,  still  my  refuge  be  ; 
So  present  ills  and  terrors 

May  future  joy  increase, 
And  scourge  me  from  my  errors, 

To  duty,  hope,  and  peace. 


Lyte. 


BALM  IN  GILEAD. 

"  Is  there  no  balm  in  Gilead  ?  is  there  no  physician  there  ? "  —  Jer.  viii.  22. 

"  Give  me  the  voice  of  mirth,  the  sound  of  laughter, 
The  sparkling  glance  of  pleasure's  roving  eye  : 

The  past  is  past ;  avaunt,  thou  dark  hereafter ! 

Come,  eat  and  drink,  —  to-morrow  we  must  die  !  " 

So,  in  his  desperate  mood,  the  fool  hath  spoken,  — 
The  fool,  whose  heart  hath  said,  "  There  is  no  God  "  ; 

But  for  the  stricken  heart,  the  spirit  broken, 
There  's  balm  in  Gilead  yet.     The  very  rod, 

If  we  but  kiss  it,  as  the  stroke  descendeth, 
Distilleth  balm  to  allay  the  inflicted  smart ; 

And  "  peace,  that  passeth  understanding,"  blendeth 
With  the  deep  sighing  of  the  contrite  heart. 


HYMNS.  51 

Mine  be  that  holy,  humble  tribulation,  — 
No  longer  feigned  distress,  —  fantastic  woe  ; 

I  know  my  griefs,  but  then  my  consolation, 
My  trust,  and  my  immortal  hopes,  I  know. 

Caroline  Bowles. 


THE  GREAT  PHYSICIAN. 

"  I  will  restore  health  unto  thee,  and  I  will  heal  thee,  saith  the  Lord.1' 
Jer.  xxx.  17. 

Tell  me  of  that  great  Physician, 
"Will  he  undertake  my  cure  ? 

Will  he  freely  grant  admission 
To  an  applicant  so  poor  ? 

None  but  Jesus 
Can  to  such  relief  insure. 

I  have  not  one  plea  to  proffer, 

Why  such  grace  I  should  partake ; 

No  inducement  can  I  offer, 
No  requital  can  I  make  ; 

None  but  Jesus 
Heals  for  his  own  mercy's  sake. 

Yet  I  know  that  he  has  granted 
Cures  to  thousands  such  as  I ; 

Given  them  freely  all  they  wanted, 
Without  money  let  them  buy ; 

None  but  Jesus 
Every  want  could  thus  supply. 


52  HYMNS. 

Let  me  go  and  spread  before  him 
All  my  symptoms,  all  my  fears  ; 

Deeply,  gratefully  adore  him, 

While  my  trembling  heart  he  cheers  : 

None  but  Jesus 
Wipes  away  the  sufferer's  tears. 


CRYING   TO  JESUS. 


"  When  they  heard  that  Jesus  passed  by,  they  cried  out,  saying,  Have  mer- 
cy on  us,  thou  Son  of  David !  "  —  Matt.  xx.  30. 


Diseased  in  body,  mind,  and  soul, 

Pass  me  not,  my  Saviour,  by ; 
One  word  of  thine  can  make  me  whole, 

O,  speak  that  word,  and  grief  shall  fly ! 

Full,  rich,  unmerited,  and  free, 

Thy  grace,  O  Lord,  for  ever  flows ; 

Such  only  can  suffice  for  me, 
Thy  peace  alone  can  give  repose. 

Lord,  for  that  peace  I  watch  and  wait ; 

When  will  the  bursting  morn  appear  ? 
Raise  me  above  this  gloomy  state, 

Give  peace  and  praise  for  doubt  and  fear. 


HYMNS.  53 


SAVIOUR  OF  THE  DYING  THIEF. 


"  And  Jesus  said  unto  him,  Verily,  I  say  unto  thee,  to-day  shalt  thou  be  with 
me  in  paradise."  —  Luke  xxiii.  43. 


Jesus  saved  the  dying  thief,  — 
Welcome  news  for  one  like  me ! 

Now  I  know  there  is  relief, 

When  the  world  no  hope  can  see : 

Saved  by  grace,  by  sovereign  grace, 

By  the  cross  I  '11  take  my  place. 

Saviour  of  the  dying  thief, 
Lo  !  a  wretch  as  vile  as  he, 

Filled  with  shame,  remorse,  and  grief, 
Draws  his  hope,  O  Lord,  from  thee  : 

In  the  view  of  so  much  grace, 

Can  despair  at  all  have  place  ? 

Nothing  but  the  richest  grace 
Could  relieve  a  wretch  like  me  ; 

This  alone  could  reach  my  case, 
And  I  see  this  grace  in  thee  : 

Saviour  of  the  dying  thief! 

In  thy  love  I  find  relief. 


54  HYMNS. 


THE  FOUNTAIN. 


"  In  that  day  there  shall  be  a  fountain  opened  to  the  house  of  David,  and  to 
the  inhabitants  of  Jerusalem,  for  sin  and  for  uncleanness."  —  Zech.  xiii.  1. 


Come  to  Calvary's  holy  mountain, 

Sinners  !  ruined  by  the  fall ; 
Here  a  pure  and  healing  fountain 

Flows  to  you,  to  me,  to  all,  — 
In  a  full,  perpetual  tide, 
Opened  when  the  Saviour  died. 

Come,  in  poverty  and  meanness, 
Come,  denied  without,  within  ; 

From  infection  and  uncleanness, 
From  the  leprosy  of  sin, 

Wash  your  robes  and  make  them  white  ; 

Ye  shall  walk  with  God  in  light. 


Come,  in  sorrow  and  contrition, 
Wounded,  impotent,  and  blind  ; 

Here  the  guilty,  free  remission, 
Here  the  troubled,  peace  may  find : 

Health  this  fountain  will  restore  ; 

He  that  drinks  will  thirst  no  more. 

He  that  drinks  shall  live  for  ever ; 
'T  is  a  soul-renewing  flood ; 


HYMNS.  55 

God  is  faithful,  —  God  will  never 

Break  his  covenant  in  blood, 
Signed  when  our  Redeemer  died, 
Sealed  when  he  was  glorified  ! 

Montgomery. 


COME   UNTO   ME. 

"  Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  'will  give  you 
rest."  —  Matt.  xi.  28. 

With  tearful  eyes  I  look  around, 
Life  seems  a  dark  and  stormy  sea ; 

Yet  'midst  the  gloom  I  hear  a  sound, 
A  heavenly  whisper,  "  Come  to  me  !  " 

It  tells  me  of  a  place  of  rest,  — 

It  tells  me  where  my  soul  may  flee  ; 

O,  to  the  weary,  faint,  oppressed, 

How  sweet  the  bidding,  "  Come  to  me." 

When  nature  shudders,  loth  to  part, 

From  all  I  love,  enjoy,  and  see  ; 
When  a  faint  chill  steals  o'er  my  heart, 

A  sweet  voice  utters,  "  Come  to  me  !  " 

"  Come,  for  all  else  must  fail  and  die  ; 

Earth  is  no  resting-place  for  thee ; 
Heavenward  direct  thy  weeping  eye, 

I  am  thy  portion,  "  Come  to  me!" 


56  HYMNS. 

O  voice  of  mercy  !  voice  of  love  ! 

In  conflict,  grief,  and  agony ; 
Support  me,  cheer  me  from  above ! 

And  gently  whisper,  "  Come  to  me  !  " 


THE   SAVIOUR'S  INVITATION. 

"  Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  ycu 
rest  "  —  Matt.  2d.  28. 

How  sweetly  flowed  the  Gospel's  sound 
From  lips  of  gentleness  and  grace, 

When  listening  thousands  gathered  round, 
And  joy  and  reverence  filled  the  place  ! 

From  heaven  he  came,  of  heaven  he  spoke, 
To  heaven  he  leads  his  followers'  way ; 

Dark  clouds  of  gloomy  night  he  broke, 
Unveiling  an  immortal  day. 

"  Come,  wanderers,  to  my  Father's  home  ; 

Come,  all  ye  weary  ones,  and  rest "  ; 
Yes  !  sacred  Teacher,  we  will  come,  — 

Obey  thee,  love  thee,  and  be  blest ! 

Decay,  then,  tenements  of  dust, 

Pillars  of  earthly  pride,  decay  ! 
A  nobler  mansion  waits  the  just, 

And  Jesus  has  prepared  the  way. 

BOWRING. 


HYMNS.  57 

"GO  W  PEACE." 

Mark  t.  34. 

"Go  in  peace  !  "  —  Serene  dismission, 
To  the  sinner's  heart  made  known, 

When  he  pours,  in  deep  contrition, 
Prayer  before  the  eternal  throne. 

"  Go  in  peace  !  "  —  thy  sins  forgiven, 
Christ  hath  pardoned,  set  thee  free, 

Every  galling  fetter  riven, — 
"  Go  in  peace  "  and  liberty. 

Saviour !  breathe  this  benediction 

O'er  my  spirit  while  I  pray  ; 
Let  me  feel,  'midst  sin's  conviction, 

Christ  has  washed  my  sins  away. 


THE  GREAT  PHYSICIAN. 

;  If  I  may  but  touch  his  garment,  I  shall  be  whole."  —  Matt,  is  21. 

Saviour  slain,  and  slain  for  me, 

While  thy  mercy  I  implore, 
While  I  humbly  bend  the  knee, 
While  my  inward  prayer  I  pour, 

Speak  a  pardon  to  my  soul ; 
Great  Physician,  make  me  whole. 


58  II Y  M  N  S  . 

Though  abashed  and  full  of  shame. 
Shrinking  with  well-founded  fear, 
All  my  trust  is  in  thy  name  ; 
Bid  thy  grace  to  me  appear, 

Bursting,  like  a  ray  of  light, 
Through  the  heavy  cloud  of  night. 

O  to  tread  life's  weary  way, 

Cheered  by  my  Redeemer's  smile  ! 
Sun  of  Righteousness,  thy  ray 
Can  all  weariness  beguile. 

Great  Physician  of  the  soul, 
Thou  alone  canst  make  me  whole. 


CHRIST'S  EXHORTATION. 

furely  he  hath  borne  our  griefs,  and  carried  our  sorrows."  —  Isa.  iiii.  4. 

Child  of  man,  whose  seed  below 
Must  fulfil  their  race  of  woe  ! 
Heir  of  want,  and  doubt,  and  pain, 
Does  thy  fainting  heart  complain  ? 
O,  in  thought,  one  night  recall,  — 
The  night  of  grief  in  Herod's  hall ! 
There  I  bore  the  vengeance  due, 
Freely  bore  it.  all  for  you. 

Child  of  dust,  corruption's  son, 
By  pride  deceived,  by  pride  undone, 


HYMNS.  59 

Willing  captive,  yet  be  free, 
Take  my  yoke  and  learn  of  me  ; 
I  of  heaven  and  earth  the  Lord, 
God  with  God,  the  eternal  Word  ; 
I  forsook  my  Father's  side, 
Toiled  and  wept,  and  bled  and  died. 

Child  of  doubt,  does  fear  surprise, 

Vexing;  thouo;hts  within  thee  rise  ? 

Wondering,  murmuring,  dost  thou  gaze 

On  evil  men  and  evil  days  ? 

O,  if  darkness  round  thee  lower, 

Darker  far  my  dying  hour, 

Which  bade  that  fearful  cry  awake, 

"  My  God,  my  God,  dost  thou  forsake  ?  " 

Child  of  sin,  by  guilt  oppressed, 
Heaves  at  last  thy  throbbing  breast  ? 
Hast  thou  felt  the  mourner's  part, 
Fear'st  thou  now  thy  failing  heart  ? 
Bear  thee  on,  beloved  of  God, 
Tread  the  path  thy  Saviour  trod  ; 
He  the  tempter's  power  hath  known, 
He  hath  poured  the  garden  groan. 

Child  of  heaven,  by  me  restored, 
Love  thy  Saviour,  serve  the  Lord  ; 
Sealed  with  that  mysterious  name, 
Bear  thy  cross,  and  scorn  the  shame, 


60  HYMNS. 

Then,  like  me,  thy  conflict  o'er, 
Thou  shalt  rise  to  sleep  no  more  ; 
Partner  of  my  purchased  throne, 
One  in  joy,  in  glory  one. 

Bowdler. 


CHRIST  OUR  EXAMPLE  IN  SUFFERING. 

"  That  I  may  know  him,  and  the  power  of  his  resurrection,  and  the  fellow- 
ship of  his  sufferings,  being  made  conformable  \into  his  death."  —  Phil.  ill.  10. 

Go  to  dark  Gethsemane, 

Ye  that  feel  the  tempter's  power, 

Your  Redeemer's  conflict  see, 
Watch  with  him  one  bitter  hour ; 

Turn  not  from  his  griefs  away, 

Learn  of  Jesus  Christ  to  pray. 

Follow  to  the  judgment-hall, 

View  the  Lord  of  life  arraigned  ; 

O  the  wormwood  and  the  gall ! 
O  the  pangs  his  soul  sustained  ! 

Shun  not  suffering,  shame,  nor  loss  ; 

Learn  of  him  to  bear  the  cross. 

Calvary's  mournful  mountain  climb  ; 

There,  adoring  at  his  feet, 
Mark  that  miracle  of  time, 

God's  own  sacrifice  complete  ! 


HYMNS.  61 

"  It  is  finished  !  "  hear  him  cry  ; 
Learn  of  Jesus  Christ  to  die. 

Early  hasten  to  the  tomb 

Where  they  laid  his  breathless  clay ; 
All  is  solitude  and  gloom  ; 

Who  hath  taken  him  away  ? 
Christ  is  risen  !  he  meets  our  eyes  ; 
Saviour,  teach  us  so  to  rise. 

Montgomery. 


PEACE  PURCHASED  BY  SUFFERINGS. 

But  the  Son  of  man  hath  not  where  to  lay  his  head."  —  Matt.  viii.  20. 

Birds  have  their  quiet  nest, 
Foxes  their  holes,  and  man  his  peaceful  bed  ; 

All  creatures  have  their  rest,  — 
But  Jesus  had  not  where  to  lay  his  head. 

Winds  have  their  hour  of  calm, 
And  waves,  to  slumber  on  the  voiceless  deep  ; 

Eve  hath  its  breath  of  balm, 
To  hush  all  senses  and  all  sounds  to  sleep. 

The  wild  deer  hath  its  lair, 
The  homeward  flocks  the  shelter  of  their  shed ; 

All  have  their  rest  from  care,  — 
But  Jesus  had  not  where  to  lay  his  head. 


62  HYMNS. 

And  yet  he  came  to  give 
The  weary  and  the  heavy  laden  rest ; 

To  bid  the  sinner  live, 
And  soothe  our  griefs  to  slumber  on  his  breast. 

What  then  am  I,  my  God, 
Permitted  thus  the  paths  of  peace  to  tread  ? 

Peace,  purchased  by  the  blood 
Of  him  who  had  not  where  to  lay  his  head ! 

O,  why  should  I  have  peace  ? 
Why  ?  but  for  that  unchanged,  undying  love, 

Which  would  not,  could  not  cease, 
Until  it  made  me  heir  of  joys  above. 

Yes  !  but  for  pardoning  grace, 
I  feel  I  never  should  in  glory  see 

The  brightness  of  that  face, 
That  once  was  pale  and  agonized  for  me  ! 

Let  the  birds  seek  their  nest, 
Foxes  their  holes,  and  man  his  peaceful  bed  ; 

Come,  Saviour,  in  my  breast 
Deign  to  repose  thine  oft-rejected  head ! 

Come  !  give  me  rest,  and  take 
The  only  rest  on  earth  thou  lov'st,  —  within 

A  heart,  that  for  thy  sake 
Lies  bleeding,  broken,  penitent  for  sin. 

Mounsel. 


HYMNS.  63 


AFFLICTION  SANCTIFIED. 

"  It  is  good  for  me  that  I  have  been  afflicted ;  that  I  might  learn  thy  statutes 
-  Ps.  csis.  71. 

Lord,  how  often  have  I  read 

Every  promise  of  thy  word  ; 
Yet  my  heart,  so  cold  and  dead, 

Felt  not  what  I  read  or  heard ! 

But,  when  thou  hast  sent  me  grief, 

Clouding  every  sunny  scene, 
Languishing  to  find  relief, 

O,  how  sweet  each  word  has  been ! 

All  is  mercy,  Lord,  I  own ; 

Promises  so  richly  given, 
Grief  to  make  their  sweetness  known, 

Pain  from  earth,  and  balm  from  heaven. 


CHRIST'S   SUBMISSION  OUR  EXAMPLE. 

"  The  cup  which  my  Father  hath  given  me,  shall  I  not  drink  it?  "  —  John 
sviii.  11. 

And  shall  I,  Lord,  the  cup  decline, 
So  wisely  mixed  by  love  divine, 

And  tasted  first  by  thee  ? 
The  bitter  draught  thou  drankest  up, 
And  but  this  single  sacred  drop 

Hast  thou  reserved  for  me  ! 


64  HYMNS. 

Lo  !  I  receive  it  at  thy  hand, 

And  bear,  by  thy  benign  command, 

The  salutary  pain. 
With  thee  to  live,  I  gladly  die  ; 
And  suffer  here,  above  the  sky 

With  thee,  my  Lord,  to  reign. 

Heie  only  can  I  thus  show  love,  — 
By  suffering,  my  obedience  prove ; 

But  when,  thy  heaven  I  share, 
I  cannot  mourn  for  Jesus'  sake, 
I  cannot  there  thy  cup  partake, 

I  cannot  suffer  there. 

Full  gladly,  then,  for  thee  I  grieve, 
The  honor  of  thy  cross  receive, 

And  bless  the  happy  load  ; 
Who  would  not  in  thy  footsteps  tread, 
Who  would  not  bow,  like  thee,  his  head, 

And  die  to  reign  with  God  ! 


PRAYER  FOR  SPIRITUAL  HEALING. 


"  They  that  be  whole  need  not  a  physician,  but  they  that  are  sick."  —  Matt 
is.  12. 


I  would  disclose  my  whole  complaint 

But  where  shall  I  begin  ? 
No  words  of  mine  can  fully  paint 

That  worst  distemper,  sin. 


HYMNS.  65 

It  lies  not  in  a  single  part, 

But  through  my  frame  is  spread ; 
A  burning  fever  in  my  heart, 

A  palsy  in  my  head. 

It  makes  me  deaf,  and  dumb,  and  blind, 

And  impotent,  and  lame  ; 
And  overclouds,  and  fills  my  mind 

With  folly,  fear,  and  shame. 

A  thousand  evil  thoughts  intrude 

Tumultuous  in  my  breast : 
Which  indispose  me  for  my  food, 

And  rob  me  of  my  rest. 

Lord,  I  am  sick !  regard  my  cry, 

And  set  my  spirit  free  : 
Say,  canst  thou  let  a  sinner  die, 

Who  longs  to  live  to  thee  ? 

Newton. 


THE  SAVIOUR'S  TRIUMPH. 

M  The  last  enemy  that  shall  be  destroyed  is  death."  —  1  Cot.  st.  28. 

The  Son  of  David  bowed  to  die, 
For  man's  transgression  stricken  ; 

The  Father's  arm  of  power  was  nigh 
The  Son  of  God  to  quicken : 
5 


66  HYMNS. 

Praise  him,  that  he  died  for  men ! 
Praise  him,  that  he  rose  again  ! 

Death  seemed  all-conquering,  when  he  hound 

The  Lord  of  life  in  prison ; 
The  might  of  death  was  nowhere  found 

When  Christ  again  was  risen  : 
Wherefore  praise  him  night  and  day, 
Him,  who  took  death's  sting  away ! 

His  saints  with  him  must  bow  to  death, 

With  him  are  raised  in  spirit ; 
With  him  they  dwell  above  by  faith, 

Accepted  through  his  merit. 
Who  o'er  death  would  victory  win, 
Live  to  Christ  and  die  to  sin. 

Death  may  awhile  his  victims  slay, 
Though  of  his  terrors  minished, 

But  he  shall  perish  in  the  day 

When  God  his  wars  has  finished  : 

Heaven  and  earth  resound  the  strain, 

Death  by  Jesus  Christ  is  slain ! 


RENOUNCING  THE  WORLD. 

"Love  not  the  world,  neither  the  things  that  are  in  the  world."  —  Uohn 
ii.  15. 

Come,  my  fond,  fluttering  heart, 
Come,  struggle  to  be  free  ; 


HYMNS.  67 

Thou  and  the  world  must  part, 
However  hard  it  be  ; 
My  trembling  spirit  owns  it  just, 
But  cleaves  yet  closer  to  the  dust. 

Ye  tempting  sweets,  forbear ; 

Ye  dearest  idols,  fall ; 
My  love  ye  must  not  share, 
Jesus  shall  have  it  all ; 
'T  is  bitter  pain,  't  is  cruel  smart, 
But,  ah  !  thou  must  consent,  my  heart ! 

Ye  fair,  enchanting  throng, 

Ye  golden  dreams,  farewell ! 
Earth  has  prevailed  too  long, 
And  now  I  break  the  spell ; 
Ye  cherished  joys  of  former  years,  — 
Jesus,  forgive  these  parting  tears ! 

But  must  I  part  with  all  ? 

My  heart  still  fondly  pleads ; 
Yes,  —  Dagon's  self  must  fall, 
It  beats,  it  throbs,  it  bleeds  : 
Is  there  no  balm  in  Gilead  found, 
To  soothe  and  heal  the  smarting  wound  ? 


o 


O,  yes,  there  is  a  balm, 
A  kind  Physician  there, 

My  fevered  mind  to  calm, 
To  bid  me  not  despair  : 


HYMNS. 

Aid  me,  dear  Saviour,  set  me  free, 
And  I  will  all  resign  to  thee. 

O,  may  I  feel  thy  worth, 

And  let  no  idol  dare, 
No  vanity  of  earth, 

With  thee,  my  Lord,  compare  ! 
Now  bid  all  worldly  joys  depart, 
And  reign  supremely  in  my  heart. 

J.  Taylor. 


THE  EOD. 
"  Hear  ye  the  rod,  and  who  hath  appointed  it."  —  Mic.  vi. 

My  Father  and  my  God, 

O,  set  this  spirit  free  ! 

I  'd  gladly  kiss  the  rod 
That  drove  my  trembling  soul  to  thee, 
And  made  it  thine  eternally. 

Sweet  were  the  bitterest  smart, 
That  with  the  bended  knee 
Would  bow  this  broken  heart ; 
For  who,  my  Saviour,  who  could  be 
A  sufferer  long,  that  flies  to  thee  ? 

The  tears  we  shed  for  sin, 
When  heaven  alone  can  see, 
Leave  truer  peace  within, 


HYMNS.  69 

Than  worldly  smiles,  which  cannot  be 
Lit  up,  my  God,  with  smiles  from  thee. 

Then  give  me  any  lot, 

I  '11  bless  thy  just  decree, 

So  thou  art  not  forgot, 
And  I  may  ne'er  dependent  be 
On  any  friend,  my  God,  but  thee  ! 

As  needle  to  the  pole, 

There  fixed,  but  tremblingly,  — 

Such  be  my  trusting  soul, 

Whate'er  life's  variations  be, 

For  ever  pointing,  Lord,  to  thee  ! 

Monsell. 


GRATEFUL  FOR  CHASTISEMENT. 

1  Therefore  I  take  pleasure  In  distresses,  for  Christ's  sake."  —  2  Cor.  xji.  10. 

Much  have  I  borne,  but  not  as  1  should  bear ;  — 
The  proud  will  unsubdued,  the  formal  prayer, 
Tell  me  thou  yet  wilt  chide,  thou  canst  not  spare, 
O  Lord,  thy  chastening  rod. 

O,  help  me,  Father !  for  my  sinful  heart 
Back  from  this  discipline  of  grief  would  start, 
Unmindful  of  his  sorer,  deeper  smart, 

Who  died  for  me,  my  God ! 


70  HYMNS. 

Yet,  if  each  wish  denied,  each  woe  and  pain, 
Break  but  some  link  of  that  oppressive  chain 
Which  binds  me  still  to  earth,  and  leaves  a  stain 
Thou  only  canst  remove,  — 

Then  am  I  blest,  —  O  bliss  from  man  concealed ! 
If  here  to  Christ,  the  weak  one's  tower  and  shield, 
My  heart,  through  sorrow,  be  set  free  to  yield 
A  service  of  deep  love. 


THE  SUFFERER  LOOKING  TO   CHRIST. 


"  Forasmuch,  then,  as  Christ  hath  suffered  for  us  in  the  flesh,  arm  your- 
selves likewise  'with  the  same  mind."  —  1  Peter  iv.  1. 


When  human  hopes  all  wither, 

And  friends  no  aid  supply, 
Then  whither,  Lord,  ah  !  whither 

Can  turn  my  straining  eye  ? 
'Mid  storms  of  grief  still  rougher, 

'Midst  darker,  deadlier  shade, 
That  cross,  where  thou  didst  suffer, 

On  Calvary  was  displayed. 

On  that  my  gaze  I  fasten, 

My  refuge  that  I  make  ; 
Though  sorely  thou  mayst  chasten, 

Thou  never  canst  forsake. 


HYMNS.  71 


Thou  on  that  cross  didst  languish, 
Ere  glory  crowned  thy  head ; 

And  I,  through  death  and  anguish, 
Must  be  to  glory  led. 


THE   SAVIOUR'S   SYMPATHY. 

"  For  we  have  not  an  high-priest  which  cannot  be  touched  with  the  feeling 
of  our  infirmities ;  but  was  in  all  points  tempted  like  as  we  are,  yet  without 
sin."  — Heb.  iv.  15. 

As  oft,  with  worn  and  weary  feet, 
We  tread  earth's  rugged  valley  o'er, 

The  thought,  —  how  comforting  and  sweet !  — 
Christ  trod  this  very  path  before  ; 

Our  wants  and  weaknesses  he  knows, 

From  life's  first  dawning  to  its  close. 

Do  sickness,  feebleness,  or  pain, 

Or  sorrow  in  our  path  appear, 
The  recollection  will  remain, 

More  deeply  did  he  sutler  here. 
His  life,  how  truly  sad  and  brief, 
Filled  up  with  suffering  and  with  grief ! 

If  Satan  tempt  our  hearts  to  stray, 

And  whisper  evil  things  within, 
So  did  he,  in  the  desert  way, 

Assail  our  Lord  with  thoughts  of  sin  ; 


72  HYMNS. 

When  worn,  and  in  a  feeble  hour, 
The  tempter  came  with  all  his  power. 

Just  such  as  I,  this  earth  he  trod, 
With  every  human  ill  but  sin ; 

And  though  indeed  the  very  God, 
As  I  am  now,  so  he  has  been. 

My  God,  my  Saviour,  look  on  me, 

With  pity,  love,  and  sympathy. 


CHRIST  ALL-SUFFICIENT. 

"  All  my  springs  are  in  thee."  —  Ps.  lxsxvii.  7. 

Fountain  of  grace,  rich,  full,  and  free, 
What  need  I,  that  is  not  in  thee  ? 
Full  pardon,  strength  to  meet  the  day, 
And  peace  which  none  can  take  away. 

Doth  sickness  fill  the  heart  with  fear  ? 
'T  is  sweet  to  know  that  thou  art  near ; 
Am  I  with  dread  of  justice  tried  ? 
'T  is  sweet  to  feel  that  Christ  hath  died. 

In  life,  thy  promises  of  aid 
Forbid  my  heart  to  be  afraid ; 
In  death,  peace  gently  veils  the  eyes ; 
Christ  rose,  and  I  shall  surely  rise. 


HYMNS.  73 

O  all-sufficient  Saviour !  be 

This  all-sufficiency  to  me  ; 

Nor  pain,  nor  sin,  nor  death  can  harm 

The  weakest  shielded  by  thine  arm. 


SUFFICIENT  GRACE. 

"  0  bring  me  out  of  my  distresses  !  "  — Ps.  xxv.  17. 

And  wilt  thou  hear  the  fevered  heart 

To  thee  in  silence  cry  ? 
And  as  th'  inconstant  wildfires  dart 

Out  of  the  restless  eye, 
Wilt  thou  forgive  the  wayward  thought, 
By  kindly  woes  yet  half  untaught, 
A  Saviour's  right  so  dearly  bought, 

That  hope  should  never  die  ? 

Thou,  who  didst  sit  on  Jacob's  well, 

The  weary  hour  of  noon, 
The  languid  pulses  thou  canst  tell, 

The  nerveless  spirit  tune. 
Thou,  from  whose  cross  in  anguish  burst 
The  cry  that  owned  thy  dying  thirst, 
To  thee  we  turn,  our  last  and  first, 

Our  Sun  and  soothing  Moon. 

From  darkness  here,  and  dreariness, 
We  ask  not  full  repose, 


74  HYMNS. 

Only  be  thou  at  hand,  to  bless 

Our  trial  hour  of  woes. 
Is  not  the  pilgrim's  toil  o'erpaid 
By  the  clear  rill  and  palmy  shade  t 
And  see  we  not,  up  earth's  dark  glade, 
The  gate  of  heaven  unclose  ? 


Keble. 


SUFFERING  ACCORDING  TO   THY  WILL. 

"  Let  them  that  suffer  according  to  the  will  of  God  commit  the  keeping  of 
their  souls  to  him."  —  1  Pet.  iv.  19. 

0  God,  from  whom  my  spirit  came, 
Moulded  by  thee,  this  mortal  frame 
Feels  health  or  sickness,  pain  or  ease, 
As  it  may  best  thy  wisdom  please ; 
Make  me  submissive,  keep  me  still, 

"  Suffering  according  to  thy  will." 

1  am  a  sinner,  —  shall  I  dare 

To  murmur  at  the  strokes  I  bear  ? 
Strokes  not  in  wrath,  but  mercy,  sent, 
A  wise  and  needful  chastisement ; 
Make  me  submissive,  keep  me  still, 
"  Suffering  according  to  thy  will." 

Saviour !  I  breathe  the  prayer  once  thine,  — 
"  Father  !  thy  will  be  done,  not  mine  !  " 


HYMNS.  75 


One  only  blessing  would  I  claim, — 
In  me,  O,  glorify  thy  name  ! 
Make  me  submissive,  keep  me  still, 
"  Suffering  according  to  thy  will." 


"AS  THOU  WILT." 

"  0  my  Father,  if  it  be  possible,  let  this  cup  pass  from  me  ;  nevertheless, 
not  as  I  will,  but  as  thou  wilt."  —  Malt.  xxvi.  39. 

Father,  if  thou  willing  be, 

Then  my  griefs  awhile  suspend, 

Then  remove  the  cup  from  me, 
Or  thy  strengthening  angel  send  , 

Wouldst  thou  have  me  suffer  on  ?  — ■ 

Father,  let  thy  will  be  done. 

If  my  flesh  be  troubled  still. 

Filled  with  pain  or  sore  disease  ; 

If  my  wounded  spirit  feel 
Still-continued  agonies  ; 

Meekly  I  my  will  resign, 

Thine  be  done,  and  only  thine. 

Patient  as  my  great  High-priest, 

In  his  bitterness  of  pain, 
Though  abandoned  and  distressed, 

Father,  I  the  cross  sustain ; 
All  into  thy  hands  I  give, 
Let  me  die,  or  let  me  live. 


76  HYMNS. 

ALPHA  AND  OMEGA. 

"  I  am  Alpha  and  Omega,  the  beginning  and  the  ending."  —  Rev.  i.  8- 

End  of  faith  and  its  foundation, 

Alpha  and  Omega  too  ; 
Jesus,  author  of  salvation, 

While  thy  cross  and  crown  I  view, 
New  supplies  of  grace  impart, 
Holy  vigor  to  my  heart. 

Militant  beneath  thy  banners, 

Though  we  travel  foes  among ; 
Soon  to  thee  shall  loud  hosannas 
Burst  from  every  ransomed  tongue, 
Great  forerunner,  entered  there, 
Crowns  and  mansions  to  prepare. 


"THY  WELL  BE  DONE." 

Matt.  vi.  10. 

He  sendeth  sun,  He  sendeth  shower, 
Alike  they  're  needful  for  the  flower, 
And  joys  and  tears  alike  are  sent, 
To  give  the  soul  fit  nourishment ; 
As  comes  to  me  or  cloud  or  sun, 
Father,  thy  will,  not  mine,  be  done ! 


HYMNS.  77 

Can  loving  children  e'er  reprove 

With  murmurs  whom  they  trust  and  love  ? 

Creator !  I  would  ever  be 

A  trusting,  loving  child  to  thee. 

As  comes  to  me  or  cloud  or  sun, 

Father,  thy  will,  not  mine,  be  done  \ 

O,  ne'er  will  I  at  life  repine ! 
Enough  that  thou  hast  made  it  mine ; 
When  falls  the  shadow  cold  of  death, 
I  will  yet  sing,  with  parting  breath, 
As  comes  to  me  or  shade  or  sun, 
Father,  thy  will,  not  mine,  be  done ! 


"THY  WILL  BE  DONE." 

Matt.  vi.  10. 

How  sweet  to  be  allowed  to  pray 

To  God  the  holy  one, 
With  filial  love  and  trust  to  say, 

O  God,  thy  will  be  done  ! 

We  in  these  sacred  words  can  find 

A  cure  for  every  ill ; 
They  calm  and  soothe  the  troubled  mind, 

And  bid  all  care  be  still. 

O,  may  that  will  that  gave  me  birth, 
And  an  immortal  soul, 


78  HYMNS. 

In  joy  or  grief,  in  life  or  death, 
My  every  wish  control ! 

0,  could  my  heart  thus  ever  pray, 
Thus  imitate  thy  Son  ! 

Teach  me,  O  God,  in  truth  to  say, 
Thy  will,  not  mine,  be  done ! 


"THY  WILL  BE   DONE." 

Matt.  vi.  10. 

What  though  in  lonely  grief  I  sigh 
For  friends  beloved,  no  longer  nigh  ; 
Submissive  still  would  I  reply, 
"  Thy  will  be  done  !  " 

If  thou  shouldst  call  me  to  resign 
What  most  I  prize,  it  ne'er  was  mine  ; 
I  only  yield  thee  what  was  thine,  — 
"  Thy  will  be  done  !  " 

Should  pining  sickness  waste  away 
My  life  in  premature  decay, 
My  Father !  still  I  strive  to  say, 
"  Thy  will  be  done  !  " 

If  but  my  fainting  heart  be  blest 
With  thy  sweet  Spirit  for  its  guest, 
My  God !  to  thee  I  leave  the  rest,  — 
"  Thy  will  be  done  !  " 


HYMNS.  79 


Renew  my  will  from  day  to  day, 
Blend  it  with  thine,  and  take  away 
All  that  now  makes  it  hard  to  say, 
"  Thy  will  be  done  !  " 


"THY  WILL  BE  DONE." 

Matt.  vi.  10. 

To  do,  or  not  to  do,  —  to  have, 
Or  not  to  have,  —  I  leave  to  thee. 

To  be,  or  not  to  be,  I  leave, — 
Thy  only  will  be  done  to  me  : 

All  my  requests  are  lost  in  one, 

Father,  thy  only  will  be  done  ! 

Suffice,  that,  for  the  season  past, 
Myself  in  things  divine  I  sought, 

For  comforts  cried  with  eager  haste, 
And  murmured  when  I  found  them  not 

I  leave  it  now  to  thee  alone, 

Father,  thy  only  will  be  done  ! 

Thy  gifts  I  clamor  for  no  more, 
Or  selfishly  thy  grace  require, 

An  evil  heart  to  varnish  o'er ; 
Jesus,  the  Giver,  I  desire, 

After  the  flesh  no  longer  known : 

Father,  thy  only  will  be  done  ! 


fiO  HYMNS. 

Welcome  alike  the  crown  or  cross  ; 

Trouble  I  cannot  ask,  nor  peace, 
Nor  toil,  nor  rest,  nor  gain,  nor  loss, 

Nor  joy,  nor  grief,  nor  pain,  nor  ease, 
Nor  life,  nor  death  ;  but  ever  pray, 
Father,  thy  only  will  be  done  ! 


SUBMISSION  AND  SUCCOR. 


"  Father,  if  thou  be  willing,  remove  this  cup  from  me ;  nevertheless,  not  my 
WflL  but  thine,  be  done."  —  Luke  xxii.  42. 


Not  in  thine  hours  of  conflict,  Lord, 

Not  when  the  tempting  fiend  was  nigh ; 
Nor  when  that  bitter  cup  was  poured, 

Thy  garden  agony  ;  — 
Not  then,  when  uttermost  thy  need, 

Seemed  light  across  thy  soul  to  break ; 
No  seraph  form  was  seen  to  speed, 

No  voice  of  comfort  spake  : 
Till,  by  thine  own  revealed  word, 

The  victory  o'er  the  fiend  was  won ;  — 
Till  the  sweet,  mournful  ciy  was  heard, 

"  Thy  will,  not  mine,  be  done !  " 

Then  to  the  desert  sped  the  blest, 

And  food,  and  peace,  and  joy  conveyed ; 

Then  one,  more  favored  than  the  rest, 
Glanced  to  the  olive  shade. 


HYMNS.  81 

Lord  !  bring  those  precious  moments  back, 

When,  fainting,  against  sin  we  strain ; 
Or  in  thy  counsels  fail  to  track 

Aught  but  the  present  pain. 
In  darkness  help  us  to  contend, 

In  darkness  yield  to  thee  our  will ; 
And  true  hearts,  faithful  to  the  end, 

Cheer  by  thine  angels  still. 


DIVINE  PEACE. 

The  peace  of  God  which  passeth  all  understanding."  —  Phil.  iv.  7. 

Peace  of  God,  which  knows  no  measure, 
Heavenly  sunbeam  of  the  soul, 

Peace  beyond  all  earthly  treasure, 
Come,  and  every  fear  control. 

Do  disease  and  pain  alarm  me, 

Do  I  fear  impending  ill  ? 
Evil  hath  not  power  to  harm  me, 

He  can  whisper,  "  Peace,  be  still !  " 

0  Almighty  to  deliver  ! 

Thou  on  whom  my  hope  is  stayed, 

1  would  trust  in  thee  for  ever, 

Then  I  cannot  be  afraid. 
6 


82  HYMNS. 

GRATEFUL  FOR  TRIALS. 

"  This  is  not  your  rest,  because  it  is  polluted."  —  Mic.  ii.  30. 

Lord,  I  would  thank  thee,  if  thine  hand 

Hath  sometimes  planted  in  my  way 
A  thorn,  to  teach,  this  earthly  land 
Was  not  intended  for  my  stay ; 
But  that  a  better  rest  remains, 
Which  neither  sin  nor  sorrow  stains. 

When  prosperous  seasons  brightly  smile, 
And  cloudless  seems  the  azure  dome, 
How  oft  does  thoughtless  joy  beguile 
The  soul  to  seek  no  better  home  ! 
Thanks,  if  some  bitter,  painful  things 
Remind  me  of  celestial  springs. 

Grant  me  these  tokens  to  receive, 

Remembering  whence  and  why  they  came  ; 
Then  shall  I  in  thy  love  believe, 

And  breathe  thanksgivings  to  thy  name. 
Tokens  of  thy  paternal  love, 
Pledges  of  endless  good  above. 


HYMNS.  83 


SICKNESS  BLEST. 

"  Of  him  are  ye  in  Christ  Jesus,  who  of  God  is  made  unto  us  wisdom,  and 
righteousness,  and  sanctification,  and  redemption."  —  1  Cor.  i.  30. 

Sickness  is  a  hallowed  season, 

If  in  God  the  soul  confide  ; 
Refuges  of  human  reason 

Failing,  then,  are  cast  aside  ; 
Man  his  utter  ignorance  learns, 
And  to  Christ  for  wisdom  turns. 

Lord  !  my  every  hope  reposes 

Solely,  thankfully  on  thee  ; 
But,  as  yet,  thy  light  discloses 

Guilt,  and  only  guilt,  in  me  ; 
Take  off  my  polluted  dress, 
Robe  me  in  thy  righteousness. 

Though  I  find  my  sufferings  painful, 

Worn  in  body,  faint  in  mind, 
Welcome  they  will  prove,  and  gainful, 

If  they  work  the  end  designed  ; 
Make  it,  Lord,  my  hourly  prayer, 
In  thy  holiness  to  share. 

Soon,  thy  glorious  work  completed, 
Sufferings  I  shall  need  no  more  ; 
Pure  in  heart,  and  new  created, 

Thou  thine  image  wilt  restore  : 
Then  from  every  bond  set  free, 
Lord,  thy  glory  I  shall  see. 


84  HYMNS. 


SICKNESS  SANCTIFIED. 

li  I  know,  0  Lord,  that  thy  judgments  are  right,  and  that  thou  in  faithful- 
ness hast  afflicted  me."  —  Ps.  cxix.  75. 

For  what  shall  I  praise  thee,  my  God  and  my  King  ? 
For  what  blessings  the  tribute  of  gratitude  bring  ? 
Shall  I  praise  thee  for  pleasure,  for  health,  and  for  ease  ? 
For  the  spring  of  delight,  and  the  sunshine  of  peace  ? 

Shall  I  praise  thee   for   flowers  that  bloomed  on  my 

breast  ? 
For  joys  in  perspective,  and  pleasures  possessed? 
For  the  spirits  that  heightened  my  day  of  delight, 
And  the  slumbers  that  sat  on  my  pillow  by  night  ? 

For  this  should  I  praise  thee  !  but  if  only  for  this, 
I  should  leave  half  untold  the  donation  of  bliss  ; 
I  thank  thee  for  sickness,  for  sorrow,  for  care, 
For  the  thorns  I  have  gathered,  the  anguish  I  bear ; 

For  the  nights  of  anxiety,  watchings,  and  tears, 
A  present  of  pain,  a  perspective  of  fears  ; 
I  praise  thee,  I  bless  thee,  my  King  and  my  God, 
For  the  good  and  the  evil  thy  love  hath  bestowed. 

The  flowers  were  sweet,  but  their  fragrance  is  flown 
They  yielded  no  fruits,  they  are  withered  and  gone  ; 
The  thorn  it  was  poignant,  but  precious  to  me,  — 
'T  was  the  message  of  mercy,  it  led  me  to  thee. 

C.  Fry. 


HYMNS.  8! 

EXTEEME  SUFFERINGS. 

;  Save  me,  0  God !  for  the  waters  are  come  in  unto  my  soul." — Ps.  Ixix.  1. 

Full  of  trembling  expectation, 
Feeling  much,  and  fearing  more, 

Mighty  God  of  my  salvation  ! 
I  thy  timely  aid  implore  ; 

Suffering  Son  of  Man,  be  near  me, 
All  my  sufferings  to  sustain  ; 

By  thy  sorer  griefs  to  cheer  me, 

By  thy  more  than  mortal  pain. 

Call  to  mind  that  unknown  anguish 

In  thy  days  of  flesh  below  ; 
When  thy  troubled  soul  did  languish 

Under  a  whole  world  of  woe  ; 
When  thou  didst  our  curse  inherit, 

Groan  beneath  our  guilty  load, 
Burdened  with  a  wounded  spirit, 

Bruised  by  all  the  wrath  of  God. 

By  thy  most  severe  temptation, 

In  that  dark,  satanic  hour ; 
By  thy  last,  mysterious  passion, 

Screen  me  from  the  adverse  power. 
By  thy  fainting  in  the  garden, 

By  thy  bloody  sweat,  I  pray, 
Write  upon  my  heart  the  pardon, 

Take  my  sins  and  fears  away. 


HYMNS. 

By  the  travail  of  thy  spirit, 

By  thine  outcry  on  the  tree, 
By  thine  agonizing  merit, 

In  my  pangs,  remember  me  ! 
By  thy  death  I  thee  conjure, 

A  weak,  dying  soul  befriend  ; 
Make  me  patient  to  endure, 

Make  me  faithful  to  the  end. 

C.  Wesley. 


SUFFERING  SANCTIFIED. 

M  I  take  pleasure  in  infirmities."  —  2  Cot.  sii.  10. 

How  happy  the  sorrowful  man, 

Whose  sorrow  is  sent  from  above, 
Awaked  by  a  visit  of  pain, 

Chastised  by  omnipotent  love  ! 
The  author  of  all  his  distress, 

He  comes  by  affliction  to  know ; 
And  God  he  in  heaven  shall  bless, 

That  ever  he  suffered  below. 

Thus,  thus  may  I  happily  grieve, 

And  hear  the  intent  of  his  rod  ; 
The  marks  of  adoption  receive, 

The  strokes  of  a  merciful  God ; 
With  nearer  access  to  his  throne, 

My  burden  of  follies  confess, 
The  cause  of  my  miseries  own, 

And  cry  for  an  answer  of  peace. 


HYMNS.  87 

0  Father  of  mercies  !  on  me, 
On  me  in  affliction  bestow 

A  power  of  applying  to  thee, 
A  sanctified  use  of  my  woe. 

1  would,  in  a  spirit  of  prayer, 

To  all  thine  appointments  submit, 
The  pledge  of  my  happiness  bear, 
And  joyfully  die  at  thy  feet. 

Wesley. 


CHAMBER  OF  SICKNESS. 


"  And  if  they  be  holden  in  cords  of  affliction,  he  openeth  also  their  ear  to 
discipline.  — Job  xxxri.  8, 10. 


Chamber  of  sickness  !  much  to  thee  I  owe, 

Though  dark  thou  be  ; 
The  lessons  it  imports  me  most  to  know, 

I  owe  to  thee. 
A  sacred  seminary  thou  hast  been, — 
I  trust  to  train  me  for  a  happier  scene. 

Chamber  of  sickness  !     Suffering  and  alone, 

My  friends  withdrawn, 
The  blessed  beams  of  heavenly  truth  have  shone 

On  me  forlorn, 
With  such  a  hallowed  vividness  and  power, 
As  ne'er  were  granted  to  a  brighter  hour. 


88  HYMNS. 

Chamber  of  sickness  !     Midst  thy  silence,  oft 

A  voice  is  heard, 
Which,  though  it  fall  like  dew  on  flowers,  so  soft, 

Yet  speaks  each  word 
Into  the  aching  heart's  unseen  recess, 
With  power  no  earthly  accents  could  possess. 

Chamber  of  sickness  !     In  that  bright  abode, 

Where  there  is  no  more  pain, 
If  through  the  merits  of  my  Saviour,  God, 

A  seat  I  gain, 
This  theme  shall  tune  my  golden  harp's  soft  lays, 
That  in  thy  shelter  passed  my  earthly  days. 


REMEMBERED    AFFLICTIONS. 

"  Thou,  which  hast  showed  me  great  and  sore  troubles,  shalt  quicken  me  again, 
and  shalt  bring  me  up  again  from  the  depths  of  the  earth."  —  Ps.  lxxi.  20. 

I  cannot  call  affliction  sweet, 

And  yet  't  was  good  to  bear  ; 
Affliction  brought  me  to  thy  feet, 

And  I  found  comfort  there. 

My  wearied  soul  was  all  resigned 

To  thy  most  gracious  will ; 
O  had  I  kept  that  better  mind, 

Or  been  afflicted  still !     . 


HYMNS.  89 

Where  are  the  vows  which  then  I  vowed  ? 

The  joys  which  then  I  knew  ? 
Those,  vanished  like  the  morning  cloud ; 

These,  like  the  morning  dew. 

Lord,  grant  me  grace  for  every  day, 

Whate'er  my  state  may  be, 
Through  life,  in  death,  with  truth  to  say, 

My  God  is  all  to  me. 

Montgomery. 


REJOICING  IN  HOPE. 

"  Rejoicing  in  hope  ;  patient  in  tribulation."  —  Rom.  xii.  12. 

Know,  my  soul,  thy  full  salvation, 

Rise  o'er  sin,  and  fear,  and  care  ; 
Joy  to  find,  in  every  station, 

Something  still  to  do  or  bear : 
Think  what  Spirit  dwells  within  thee  ; 

Think  what  Father's  smiles  are  thine ; 
Think  what  Jesus  did  to  win  thee  ; 

Child  of  heaven  !  canst  thou  repine  ? 

Haste  thee  on  from  grace  to  glory, 

Armed  with  faith  and  winged  with  prayer 

Heaven's  eternal  day 's  before  thee, 

God's  own  hand  shall  guide  thee  there  ; 


90  HYMNS. 

Soon  shall  close  thine  earthly  mission, 
Soon  shall  pass  thy  pilgrim  days ; 

Hope  shall  change  to  glad  fruition, 
Faith  to  sight,  and  prayer  to  praise. 

Gran 


"MY  TIMES  ARE  IN  THY  HAND." 

Ps.  xxxi.  15. 

"  My  times  are  in  thy  hand," 
My  God,  I  M  have  them  there  ; 

My  life,  my  friends,  my  soul,  I  leave 
Entirely  to  thy  care. 

"  My  times  are  in  thy  hand," 

Whatever  they  may  be  ; 
Pleasing  or  painful,  dark  or  bright, 

As  best  may  seem  to  thee. 

"  My  times  are  in  thy  hand," 
Why  should  I  doubt  or  fear  ? 

My  Father's  hand  will  never  cause 
His  child  a  needless  tear. 

"  My  times  are  in  thy  hand," 

I  '11  always  trust  in  thee  ; 
And  after  death,  at  thy  right  hand 

I  shall  for  ever  be. 


HYMNS.  91 


WHOLLY  RESIGNED. 

"  For  he  maketh  sore,  and  bindeth  up ;  he  woundeth,  and  his  hands  make 
whole."  —  Job  v.  18. 

My  whole,  though  broken  heart,  O  Lord, 

From  henceforth  shall  be  thine, 
And  here  I  do  my  vow  record, 

This  hand,  these  words,  are  mine. 
All  that  I  have,  without  reserve 

I  offer  here  to  thee, 
Thy  will  and  honor  all  shall  serve 

That  thou  bestow'dst  on  me. 

Now  it  belongs  not  to  my  share, 

Whether  I  die  or  live, 
To  love  and  serve  thee  is  my  share, 

And  this  thy  grace  must  give. 
If  life  be  long,  I  will  be  glad, 

That  I  may  long  obey  ; 
If  short,  yet  why  should  I  be  sad, 

That  shall  have  the  same  pay  ? 

If  death  shall  bruise  this  springing  seed, 

Before  it  comes  to  fruit, 
The  will  with  thee  goes  for  the  deed, 

Thy  life  was  in  the  root. 
Long  life  is  a  long  grief  and  toil, 

And  multiplieth  faults; 
In  long  wars,  he  may  have  the  foil, 

That  'scapes  in  short  assaults. 


92  HYMNS. 

Christ  leads  us  through  no  darker  rooms 

Than  he  went  through  before. 
He  that  into  God's  kingdom  comes, 

Must  enter  by  this  door. 
Come,  Lord,  when  grace  hath  made  me  meet 

Thy  blessed  face  to  see, 
For  if  thy  work  on  earth  be  sweet, 

What  will  thy  glory  be  ! 

Then  I  shall  end  my  sad  complaints, 

And  weaiy,  sinful  days, 
And  join  with  the  triumphant  saints, 

That  sing  Jehovah's  praise. 
My  knowledge  of  that  life  is  small, 

The  eye  of  faith  is  dim, 
But 't  is  enough  that  Christ  knows  all, 

And  I  shall  be  with  him. 

Baxter. 


SELF-RENUNCIATION. 

"  That  the  name  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  may  be  glorified  in  you,  and  ye 
in  him,  according  to  the  grace  of  our  God,  and  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ."  — 
2  Thess.  i.  12. 

When,  my  Saviour,  shall  I  be 
Perfectly  resigned  to  thee  ? 
Poor  and  blind  in  my  own  eyes, 
Only  in  thy  wisdom  wise  ? 


HYMNS.  93 


Only  thee  content  to  know, 
Ignorant  of  all  below  ? 
Only  guided  by  thy  light, 
Only  mighty  in  thy  might  ? 

So  I  may  thy  Spirit  know, 
Let  him  as  he  listeth  blow  ; 
Let  the  manner  be  unknown, 
So  I  may  with  thee  be  one. 

Fully  in  my  life  express 
All  the  heights  of  holiness  ; 
Sweetly  let  my  spirit  prove 
All  the  depths  of  humble  love. 


Wesley. 


CHRIST'S  SYMPATHY  WITH  THE  SUFFERER 

"  For  we  have  not  an  high-priest  which  cannot  be  touched  with  the  feeling  of 
our  infirmities ;  but  was  in  all  points  tempted  like  as  we  are,  yet  without  sin." 
—  Heb.  iv.  15. 

Where  high  the  heavenly  temple  stands, 
The  house  of  God  not  made  with  hands 
A  great  high-priest  our  nature  wears,  — 
The  guardian  of  mankind  appears. 

Though  now  ascended  up  on  high, 
He  bends  on  earth  a  brother's  eye  ; 


94  HYMNS. 

Partaker  of  the  human  name, 

He  knows  the  frailty  of  our  frame. 

Our  fellow-sufferer  yet  retains  • 

A  fellow-feeling  of  our  pains, 
And  still  remembers,  in  the  skies, 
His  tears,  his  agonies,  and  cries. 

In  eveiy  pang  that  rends  the  heart, 
The  Man  of  Sorrows  had  a  part ; 
He  sympathizes  with  our  grief, 
And  to  the  sufferer  sends  relief. 

With  boldness,  therefore,  at  the  throne, 
Let  us  make  all  our  sorrows  known, 
And  ask  the  aids  of  heavenly  power 
To  help  us  in  the  evil  hour. 

Logan. 


CONFORMITY  TO   CHRIST. 

"  Let  this  mind  be  in  you,  which,  was  also  in  Christ  Jesus."  —  Phil.  ii.  5. 

Ever  patient,  gentle,  meek, 
Holy  Saviour  !  was  thy  mind  ; 

Vainly  in  myself  I  seek 

Likeness  to  my  Lord  to  find ; 

Yet  that  mind  which  was  in  thee 

May  be,  must  be,  formed  in  me. 


HYMNS.  95 

Though  such  griefs  were  thine  to  bear, 
For  each  sufferer  thou  couldst  feel ; 

Every  mourner's  burden  share, 
Every  wounded  spirit  heal ; 

Saviour,  let  thy  grace  in  me 

Form  that  mind  which  was  in  thee. 

When  my  pain  is  most  intense, 

Let  thy  cross  my  lesson  prove  ; 
Let  me  hear  thee,  e'en  from  thence, 

Breathing  words  of  peace  and  love  ; 
Saviour,  let  thy  grace  in  me 
Form  that  mind  which  was  in  thee. 


LITANY. 

"  I  will  pray  with  the  spirit,  and  I  will  pray  with  the  understanding  also. 
-1  Cor.  xiv.  15. 

From  the  recesses  of  a  lowly  spirit, 
My  humble  prayer  ascends  ;  O  Father,  hear  it, 
Upsoaring  on  the  wings  of  fear  and  meekness, 
Forgive  its  weakness. 

I  know,  I  feel,  how  mean  and  how  unworthy 
The  trembling  sacrifice  I  pour  before  thee, 
What  can  I  offer  in  thy  presence  holy, 
But  sin  and  folly  ? 


96  HYMNS. 

For  in  thy  sight,  who  every  bosom  viewest, 
Cold  are  our  warmest  vows,  and  vain  our  truest ; 
Thoughts  of  a  hurrying  hour,  our  lips  repeat  them, 
Our  hearts  forget  them. 

We  see  thy  hand,  it  leads  us,  it  supports  us, 
We  hear  thy  voice,  it  counsels  and  it  courts  us, 
And  then  we  turn  away,  —  and  still  thy  kindness 
Pardons  our  blindness. 

And  still  thy  rain  descends,  thy  sun  is  glowing, 
Fruits  ripen  round,  flowers  are  beneath  us  blowing, 
And,  as  if  man  were  some  deserving  creature, 
Joys  cover  nature. 

O,  how  long-suffering,  Lord  !  but  thou  delightest 
To  win  with  love  the  wandering,  —  thou  invitest 
By  smiles  of  mercy,  not  by  frowns  or  terrors, 
Man  from  his  errors. 

Who  can  resist  thy  gentle  call,  appealing 
To  every  generous  thought,  and  grateful  feeling, 
That  voice  paternal,  whispering,  watching  ever  ? 
My  bosom,  never. 

Father  and  Saviour !  plant  within  that  bosom 
These  seeds  of  holiness,  and  bid  them  blossom 
In  fragrance  and  in  beauty  bright  and  vernal, 
And  spring  eternal. 


H  Y  M  N  S 


97 


Then  place  them  in  those  everlasting  gardens 
Where  angels  walk  and  seraphs  are  the  wardens, 
Where  every  flower  that  creeps  through  death's  dark 
portal 
Becomes  immortal. 

Bowring. 


LITANY  TO   THE  SAVIOUR. 


"  For  whosoever  shall  call  upon  the  name  of  the  Lord  shall  be  saved."  — 
Rom.  x.  13. 


Saviour  !  when,  in  dust,  to  thee 
Low  we  bow  the  adoring  knee  ; 
When,  repentant,  to  the  skies 
Scarce  we  lift  our  weeping  eyes, 
O,  by  all  thy  pains  and  woe, 
Suffered  once  for  man  below, 
Bending  from  thy  throne  on  high, 
Hear  our  solemn  Litany  ! 

By  thy  helpless  infant  years, 
By  thy  life  of  want  and  tears, 
By  thy  days  of  sore  distress 
In  the  savage  wilderness  ; 
By  the  dread,  mysterious  hour' 
Of  the  insulting  tempter's  power, 
Turn,  O,  turn  a  favoring  eye, — 
Hear  our  solemn  Litany  ! 
7 


98  HYMNS. 

By  the  sacred  griefs,  that  wept 
O'er  the  grave  where  Lazarus  slept ; 
By  the  boding  tears,  that  flowed 
Over  Salem's  loved  abode  ; 
By  the  anguished  sigh,  that  told 
Treachery  lurked  within  thy  fold,  — 
From  thy  seat  above  the  sky, 
Hear  our  solemn  Litany  ! 

By  thine  hour  of  dire  despair, 
By  thine  agony  of  prayer ; 
By  the  cross,  the  nail,  the  thorn, 
Piercing  spear,  and  torturing  scorn  ; 
By  the  gloom  that  veiled  the  skies 
O'er  the  .dreadful  sacrifice,  — 
Listen  to  our  humble  ciy, 
Hear  our  solemn  Litany  ! 

By  thy  deep,  expiring  groan, 
By  the  sad,  sepulchral  stone ; 
By  the  vault,  whose  dark  abode 
Held  in  vain  the  rising  God ;  — 
O,  from  earth  to  heaven  restored, 
Mighty,  reascended  Lord  !  — 
Listen,  listen  to  the  ciy 
Of  our  solemn  Litany  ! 

Grant. 


HYMNS.  99 

LITANY  TO  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT. 

"  Likewise  also  the  Spirit  helpeth  our  infirmities."  —  Rom.  viii.  26. 

In  the  hour  of  my  distress, 
When  temptations  me  oppress, 
And  when  I  my  sins  confess,  — 
Sweet  Spirit,  comfort  me. 

When  I  lie  within  my  bed, 
Sick  in  heart,  and  sick  in  head, 
And  with  doubts  disquieted,  — 
Sweet  Spirit,  comfort  me. 

When  the  house  doth  sigh  and  weep, 
And  the  world  is  drowned  in  sleep, 
Yet  mine  eyes  the  watch  do  keep,  — 
Sweet  Spirit,  comfort  me. 

When  the  tempter  me  pursueth, 
With  the  sins  of  all  my  youth, 
And  condemns  me  with  untruth,  — 
Sweet  Spirit,  comfort  me. 

When  the  flames  and  hellish  cries 
Fright  mine  ears,  and  fright  mine  eyes, 
And  all  terrors  me  surprise,  — 
Sweet  Spirit,  comfort  me. 


100  HYMNS. 

When  the  judgment  is  revealed, 
And  that  opened  which  was  sealed, 
When  to  thee  I  have  appealed,  — 
Sweet  Spirit,  comfort  me. 


Herrick. 


HYMN  AT  THE  CROSS. 


'•  But  God  forbid  that  I  should  glory,  save  in  the  cross  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  by  •whom  the  world  is  crucified  unto  me,  and  I  unto  the  world."  — 
Gal  yi.  14. 


O  Thou,  Majesty  Divine  ! 
Was  ever  poverty  like  thine  ! 
Who,  for  such  surpassing  love, 
Yielding  blood  for  blood,  will  prove 
True  followers  in  thy  train  ? 

Sharing  now  thy  wounds,  I  pray  thee, 
Let  me  love  for  love  repay  thee  ; 
Thou,  whose  soul  for  sinners  smarted, 
Healer  of  the  broken-hearted, 
Kind  Father  of  the  poor. 

What  in  me  is  wounded,  broken, 
What  doth  sore  disease  betoken, 
Sweetest  Saviour,  make  it  whole, 
Then  restore  me,  heal  my  soul 
With  medicine  divine. 


HYMNS.  101 

I  draw  near,  as  thou  wert  by  me, 
Yea,  I  do  believe  thee  near  me  ; 
Heal  me,  thou  my  hope  hast  been ; 
Cleanse  me,  and  1  shall  be  clean, 
When  washed  in  blood  of  thine. 

On  my  heart  each  stripe  be  written, 
Wherewith  thou  for  me  wert  smitten  ; 
Each  deep  wound,  that  I  may  be 
Wholly  crucified  with  thee, 
And  loving  thee  alway. 

Gracious  Jesus,  Lord  most  dear, 
Guilty  though  I  am,  give  ear ; 
Show  thine  own  sweet  clemency ; 
Spurn  me  not,  though  vile  I  be, 
From  thy  blessed  feet  away. 

Here  before  thee,  fallen,  weeping, 
And  with  tears  these  torn  feet  steeping, 
Jesus,  for  thy  mercy's  sake, 
Pity  on  my  miseiy  take, 
And  one  kind  look  let  fall. 

From  the  cross  uplifted  high, 
My  beloved,  cast  thine  eye  ; 
Turn  me  to  thee,  heart  and  soul, 
Speak  the  word  of  power,  —  "  Be  whole, 
I  have  forgiven  thee  all." 

Whitehead. 


102  HYMNS. 


5T  IS  I,  BE  NOT  AFRAID. 

"  Jesus  spake  unto  them,  saying,  Be  of  good  cheer ;  it  is  I,  be  not  afraid." 
Matt.  xiv.  27. 

When  waves  of  trouble  round  me  swell, 

My  soul  is  not  dismayed ; 
I  hear  a  voice  I  know  full  well,  — 

"  'T  is  I,  be  not  afraid." 

When  black  the  threatening  skies  appear, 
And  storms  my  path  invade, 

Those  accents  tranquillize  each  fear, — 
"  'T  is  I,  be  not  afraid." 

There  is  a  gulf,  that  must  be  crossed  ; 

Saviour,  be  near  to  aid  ! 
Whisper,  when  my  frail  bark  is  tossed, — 

"  c  'T  is  I,  be  not  afraid." 

There  is  a  dark  and  fearful  vale, 
Death  hides  within  its  shade  ; 

0,  say,  when  flesh  and  heart  shall  fail,  — 
"  'T  is  I,  be  not  afraid." 


CHRIST  OUR  LIGHT. 

"  Whereunto  ye  do  well  that  ye  take  heed,  as  unto  a  light  that  shineth  in  a 
dark  place."  —  1  Pet.  i.  19. 

Polar  Star  of  life's  dark  sea  ! 
All  unknowing  how  to  steer, 


HYMNS.  103 

Saviour,  I  would  look  to  thee  ; 
O'er  the  watery  waste  appear ; 
Let  no  cloud  obscure  thy  light, 
Shine  encouragingly  bright. 

O'er  the  rolling  billows  shine, 

Faith  to  thee  her  eye  will  turn ; 
Though  the  stormy  night  be  mine, 
If  my  beacon  I  discern, 
If  my  guiding  star  appear, 
I  shall  quickly  lose  my  fear. 

Though  the  foaming  billows  rise, 

I  shall  scarce  their  threatening  see, 
If  I  turn  me  to  the  skies, 
If  I  fix  my  gaze  on  thee. 

Guiding  Star  !  still  give  thy  light, 
Lead  me  through  the  stormy  night. 


COMMITTING  THE  SOUL  TO  JESUS. 


•:  Into  thy  hand  I  commit  my  spirit;  thou  hast  redeemed  me,  0  Lord  God 
of  truth."  —  Ps.  xxxi.  5. 


My  spirit  on  thy  care, 
Blest  Saviour,  I  recline  ; 

Thou  wilt  not  leave  me  to  despair, 
For  thou  art  love  divine. 


104 


HYMNS. 

In  thee  I  place  my  trust, 

On  thee  I  calmly  rest ; 
I  know  thee  good,  —  I  know  thee  just, 

And  count  thy  choice  the  best. 

Whate'er  events  betide, 
Thy  will  they  all  perform  ; 

Safe  in  thy  breast  my  head  I  hide, 
Nor  fear  the  coming  storm. 

Let  good  or  ill  befall, 

It  must  be  good  for  me  ; 
Secure  of  having  thee  in  all, 

Of  having  all  in  thee. 

Lyte. 


CLINGING  TO  JESUS. 

11  Seeing  then  we  have  a  great  high-priest  that  is  passed  into  the  heavens, 
Jesus,  the  Son  of  God,  let  us  hold  fast  our  profession."  —  Heb.  iv.  14. 

Holy  Saviour,  friend  unseen, 
Since  on  thine  arm  thou  bid'st  me  lean, 
Help  me,  throughout  life's  varying  scene, 
By  faith  to  cling  to  thee  ! 

Blest  with  this  fellowship  divine, 
Take  what  thou  wilt,  I  '11  ne'er  repine  ; 
E'en  as  the  branches  to  the  vine, 

My  soul  would  cling  to  thee ! 


HYMNS.  1 05 

Far  from  her  home,  fatigued,  oppressed, 
Here  she  has  found  her  place  of  rest ; 
An  exile  still,  yet  not  unblest, 

While  she  can  cling  to  thee  ! 

Oft,  when  I  seem  to  tread  alone 

Some  barren  waste  with  thorns  o'ergrown, 

Thy  voice  of  love,  in  tenderest  tone, 

Whispers,  "  Still  cling  to  me  !  " 

Though  faith  and  hope  may  oft  be  tried, 
I  ask  not,  need  not,  aught  beside  ; 
How  safe,  how  calm,  how  satisfied, 

The  soul  that  clings  to  thee  ! 

Blest  is  my  lot,  whate'er  befall ; 
What  can  disturb  me,  what  appall, 
Whilst  as  my  rock,  my  strength,  my  all, 
Saviour  !  I  cling  to  thee  ? 


EISE  AND  PRAY. 

Luke  xxii.  46. 

Art  thou  a  pilgrim,  and  alone, 

Far  from  the  home  once  called  thine  own  ? 

From  friendship's  faithful  bosom  wrested, 

In  stranger  hands  thy  comforts  vested, 

Thy  life  a  cheerless  wintry  day 

Unlit  by  sunshine  ?  —  Rise  and  pray ! 


106  HYMNS. 

Smiled  on  thee  once  the  bliss  of  earth, 
And  glittering  toys  of  transient  worth  ? 
Hast  thou  adored  some  idol  shrine, 
Or  bent  has  many  a  knee  at  thine  ? 
Faded  these  creatures  of  a  day, 
What  hast  thou  left  ?  •  Arise  and  pray  ! 

O,  hast  thou,  driven  by  deepest  woe, 
Thy  soul's  sure  refuge  learned  to  know  ? 
And  every  storm  of  life  would  meet 
Beneath  the  sheltering  mercy-seat  ? 
Whether  in  youth  or  life's  decay, 
Thy  lot  is  blest,  —  thou  lov'st  to  pray  ? 

But  haply  thou,  even  thou,  hast  found 

Religion's  consecrated  ground 

With  sorrows  and  with  snares  beset ; 

Which,  though  the  Almighty  Sufferer  met 

To  conquer,  we  must  yet  obey 

His  welcome  mandate,  —  Rise  and  pray  ! 

O,  mournful  lot  to  mortals  given, 

Might  not  the  winged  thought  to  heaven 

Amidst  opposing  myriads  rise, 

To  claim  its  refuge  in  the  skies ! 

"  Where  is  thy  God  ?  "  whilst  mockers  say, 

To  him  mounts  up  the  soul  to  pray  ! 

Though,  mingled  in  one  bitter  draught, 
Thou  eveiy  earthly  woe  hast  quaffed  ; 


HYMNS.  107 

Around  though  enemies  prevail, 

And  darts  from  cherished  friends  assail ; 

These  but  in  image  faint  portray 

His  griefs,  who  bids  thee  —  Rise  and  pray ! 

Even  should  that  direst  hour  be  thine, 
When  in  the  darkening  heavens  no  sign 
Appears  ;  but  thou  in  combat  fell 
Must  meet  the  adverse  hosts  of  hell, 
O,  never  cast  the  hope  away, 
While  thou  canst  lift  thy  heart  to  pray ! 

With  tears,  with  bitterest  agony, 

The  Saviour  wrestled,  soul !  for  thee, 

Ere  he  could  all-triumphant  rise 

To  plead  the  accepted  sacrifice  : 

So,  till  the  world  shall  pass  away, 

Shall  stand  his  words,  —  "  Arise  and  pray  !  " 


TO  PRAYER. 

"  In  the  morning  will  I  direct  my  prayer  to  thee.':  —  Ps.  v.  3. 

To  prayer  to  prayer  !  —  for  the  morning  breaks, 

And  earth  in  her  Maker's  smile  awakes. 

His  light  is  on  all  below,  above, 

The  light  of  gladness,  and  life,  and  love. 

O,  then,  in  the  breath  of  the  early  air, 

Send  upward  the  incense  of  grateful  prayer ! 


10S  HYMNS. 

Co  prayer !  —  for  the  glorious  sun  is  gone, 
And  the  gathering  darkness  of  night  comes  on. 
Like  a  curtain  from  God's  kind  hand  it  flows, 
To  shade  the  couch  where  his  children  repose. 
Then  kneel,  while  the  watching  stars  are  bright, 
And  give  your  last  thoughts  to  the  Guardian  of  night. 

To  prayer !  —  for  the  day  that  God  has  blest 
Comes  tranquilly  on  with  its  welcome  rest. 
It  speaks  of  creation's  early  bloom  ; 
It  speaks  of  the  Prince  who  burst  the  tomb. 
Then  summon  the  spirit's  exalted  powers, 
And  devote  to  heaven  the  hallowed  hours. 

There  are  smiles  and  tears  in  the  mother's  eyes, 

For  her  new-born  infant  beside  her  lies. 

O,  hour  of  bliss !  when  the  heart  o'erflows 

With  rapture,  a  mother  only  knows. 

Let  it  gush  forth  in  words  of  fervent  prayer  j 

Let  it  swell  up  to  heaven  for  her  precious  care. 

There  are  smiles  and  tears  in  that  gathering  band, 
Where  the  heart  is  pledged  with  the  trembling  hand. 
What  trying  thoughts  in  her  bosom  swell, 
As  the  bride  bids  parents  and  home  farewell ! 
Kneel  down  by  the  side  of  the  tearful  fair, 
And  strengthen  the  perilous  hour  with  prayer. 

Kneel  down  by  the  dying  sinner's  side, 

And  pray  for  his  soul  through  Him  who  died. 


HYMNS.  109 

Large  drops  of  anguish  are  thick  on  his  brow,  — 
O,  what  is  earth  and  its  pleasures  now ! 
And  what  shall  assuage  his  dark  despair, 
But  the  penitent  cry  of  humble  prayer  ? 

Kneel  down  at  the  couch  of  departing  faith, 

And  hear  the  last  words  the  believer  saith. 

He  has  bidden  adieu  to  his  earthly  friends ; 

There  is  peace  in  his  eye  that  upward  bends  ; 

There  is  peace  in  his  calm,  confiding  air; 

For  his  last  thoughts  are  God's,  his  last  words,  prayer. 

The  voice  of  prayer  at  the  sable  bier ! 

A  voice  to  sustain,  to  soothe,  and  to  cheer. 

It  commends  the  spirit  to  God  who  gave  ; 

It  lifts  the  thoughts  from  the  cold,  dark  grave  ; 

It  points  to  the  glory  where  He  shall  reign, 

Who  whispered,  "  Thy  brother  shall  rise  again." 

The  voice  of  prayer  in  the  world  of  bliss  ! 
But  gladder,  purer,  than  rose  from  this. 
The  ransomed  shout  to  their  glorious  King, 
Where  no  sorrow  shades  the  soul  as  they  sing ; 
But  a  sinless  and  joyous  song  they  raise, 
And  their  voice  of  prayer  is  eternal  praise. 

Awake,  awake,  and  gird  up  thy  strength 

To  join  that  holy  band  at  length. 

To  Him  who  unceasing  love  displays, 

Whom  the  powers  of  nature  unceasingly  praise, 


110  HYMNS. 

To  Him  thy  heart  and  thy  hours  be  given ; 
For  a  life  of  prayer  is  the  life  of  neaven. 

Ware. 


TEACH  ME  TO  PRAY. 

u  One  of  his  disciples  said  unto  him,  Lord,  teach  us  to  pray."  —  Luke  xi.  1. 

0  God  !  may  I  look  up  to  thee  ? 

I  would  address  thee  if  I  may  ; 
And  this  my  one  request,  should  be, 
Teach  me  to  pray. 

Now  in  my  sickness  I  would  ask, 

What  thoughts  to  think,  what  words  to  say ; 
Prayer  is  a  new  and  arduous  task ; 
Teach  me  to  pray. 

A  heartless  form  will  not  suffice, 

The  self-deemed  rich  are  sent  away ; 
The  heart  must  bring  the  sacrifice  ;  — 
Teach  me  to  pray. 

To  whom  shall  I,  thy  creature,  turn  ? 

Whom  else  address  ?     Whom  else  obey  ? 
Teach  me  the  lesson  I  would  learn,  — 
Teach  me  to  pray. 


HYMNS.  Ill 


Now,  in  my  hour  of  trouble,  deign 

To  bow  my  spirit  to  thy  sway ; 
Now,  let  me  ask  thee  not  in  vain ;  — 
Teach  me  to  pray. 

To  thee  alone  my  eyes  look  up, 

Turn  not,  O  God,  thy  face  away, 
Prayer  is  my  only  door  of  hope  ;  — 
Teach  me  to  pray. 


FIRST  REQUESTS. 

"  Ask  what  I  shall  give  thee."  —  1  Kings  iii.  5. 

And  dost  thou  say,  "  Ask  what  thou  wilt  ?  " 
Lord,  I  would  seize  the  golden  hour,  — 

I  pray  to  be  released  from  guilt, 

And  freed  from  sin  and  Satan's  power. 

More  of  thy  presence,  Lord,  impart, 
More  of  thine  image  let  me  bear  ; 

Erect  thy  throne  within  my  heart, 
And  reign  without  a  rival  there. 

Give  me  to  read  my  pardon,  sealed, 

And  from  thy  joy  to  draw  my  strength  ; 

To  have  thy  boundless  love  revealed, 
In  all  its  height,  and  breadth,  and  length. 


112  HYMNS. 

Grant  these  requests,  I  ask  no  more, 
But  to  thy  care  the  rest  resign ; 

Sick  or  in  health,  or  rich  or  poor, 
All  shall  be  well,  if  thou  art  mine. 

Newton. 


CHRIST'S  PROMISE. 

Ask,  and  ye  shall  receive,  that  your  joy  may  be  full."  —John  xvi.  24. 

"  Ask,  and  ye  shall  receive  "  ; 

This  promise  —  O,  how  free  ! 
Lord,  help  me  firmly  to  believe 

That  promise  made  for  me. 

Much  need  have  I  to  pray, 

Pardon  and  grace  I  seek ; 
Defence  and  guidance  every  day, 

And  strength,  for  I  am  weak. 

My  prayer  do  thou  inspire, 
And,  O,  that  prayer  receive  ! 

Lord,  teach  me  what  I  should  desire  ; 
Lord,  help  me  to  believe. 


THE  MERCY-SEAT. 

"  And  there  I  will  meet  with  thee,  and  I  -will  commune  with  thee  from 
above  the  mercy-seat."  —  Exod.  xxv.  22. 

From  every  stormy  wind  that  blows, 
From  every  swelling  tide  of  woes, 


HYMNS.  113 

There  is  a  calm,  a  sure  retreat,  — 
'T  is  found  beneath  the  "  Mercy-seat." 

There  is  a  place  where  Jesus  sheds 
The  oil  of  gladness  on  our  heads ; 
A  place  than  all  beside  more  sweet, 
It  is  the  blood-bought  "  Mercy-seat." 

There  is  a  place  where  spirits  blend, 
Where  friend  holds  fellowship  with  friend, 
Though  sundered  far,  —  by  faith  they  meet 
Around  one  common  "  Mercy-seat." 

Ah  !  whither  could  we  flee  for  aid, 
When  tempted,  desolate,  dismayed, 
Or  how  the  host  of  hell  defeat, 
Had  suffering  saints  no  "  Mercy-seat  "  ? 

There,  there  on  eagle  wings  we  soar, 
And  sin  and  sense  molest  no  more, 
And  heaven  comes  down  our  souls  to  greet, 
And  glory  crowns  the  "  Mercy-seat." 

O,  let  my  hand  forget  her  skill, 
My  tongue  be  silent,  cold,  and  still, 
This  throbbing  heart  forget  to  beat, 
If  I  forget  the  "  Mercy-seat." 

Stowell. 


114  HYMNS. 

LONGING  FOR  GOD. 

Ps.  xlii. 

Lone,  amidst  the  dead  and  dying, 
Lord,  my  spirit  faints  for  thee ; 

Longing,  thirsting,  drooping,  sighing, — 
When  shall  I  thy  presence  see  ? 

O,  how  altered  my  condition ! 

Late  I  led  the  joyous  throng ; 
Beat  my  heart  with  full  fruition, 

Flowed  my  lips  with  grateful  song. 

Now  the  storm  goes  wildly  o'er  me, 
Waves  on  waves  my  soul  confound ; 

Naught  but  boding  fears  before  me, 
Naught  but  threatening  foes  around. 

Save  me,  save  me,  O  my  Father ! 

To  thy  faithful  word  I  cling  ; 
Thence,  my  soul,  thy  comfort  gather ; 

Hope,  and  thou  again  shalt  sing. 

Lyte. 


LONGING  FOR  GOD. 

As  the  hart  panteth  after  the  water-brooks,  so  panteth  my  soul  after  thee, 
OGod.»  —  Ps.  xlii.  1. 

As,  panting  in  the  sultry  beam, 
The  hart  desires  the  cooling  stream, 


HYMNS.  115 

So  to  thy  presence,  Lord,  I  flee, — 
So  longs  my  soul,  0  God,  for  thee  ; 
Athirst  to  taste  thy  living  grace, 
And  see  thy  glory  face  to  face. 

But  rising  griefs  distress  my  soul, 

And  tears  on  tears  successive  roll ; 

For  many  an  evil  voice  is  near, 

To  chide  my  woe,  and  mock  my  fear ; 

And  silent  memory  weeps  alone, 

O'er  hours  of  peace  and  gladness  flown. 

For  I  have  walked  the  happy  round, 
That  circles  Zion's  holy  ground, 
And  gladly  swelled  the  choral  lays 
That  hymned  my  great  Redeemer's  praise, 
What  time  the  hallowed  arch  along 
Responsive  swelled  the  solemn  song. 

Ah  !  why,  by  passing  clouds  oppressed, 
Should  vexing  thoughts  distract  my  breast  ? 
Turn,  turn  to  Him,  in  eveiy  pain, 
Whom  never  suppliant  sought  in  vain  ; 
Thy  strength  in  joy's  ecstatic  day, 
Thy  hope  when  joy  has  passed  away. 

BOWDLER. 


116  HYMNS. 

LIFTING  THE    SOUL  TO  GOD. 

"  Unto  thee,  0  Lord,  do  I  lift  up  my  soul."  —  Ps.  xxv.  1. 

Fountain  of  light  and  living  breath, 

Whose  mercies  never  fail  nor  fade  ; 
Fill  me  with  life  that  hath  no  death, 
Fill  me  with  light  that  hath  no  shade  ; 
Appoint  the  remnant  of  my  days 
To  see  thy  power,  and  sing  thy  praise. 

Lord  God  of  gods,  before  whose  throne 

Stand  storms  of  fire  !     O,  what  shall  we 
Return  to  Heaven,  that  is  our  own, 
When  all  the  world  belongs  to  thee  ? 
We  have  no  offering  to  impart, 
But  praises  and  a  wounded  heart. 

O  Thou,  that  sitt'st  in  heaven,  and  seest 

My  deeds  without,  my  thoughts  within,  — 
Be  thou  my  prince,  be  thou  my  priest, 
Command  my  soul,  and  cure  my  sin  : 
How  bitter  my  afflictions  be 
I  care  not,  so  I  rise  to  thee. 

What  I  possess,  or  what  I  crave, 

Brings  no  content,  great  God,  to  me,  — 

If  what  I  would,  or  what  I  have, 
Be  not  possessed  and  blest  in  thee  : 


HYMNS.  117 

What  I  enjoy,  0,  make  it  mine, 
In  making  me,  that,  have  it,  thine. 

When  winter  fortunes  cloud  the  brows 

Of  summer  friends,  when  eyes  grow  strange, 
When  plighted  faith  forgets  its  vows, 
When  earth  and  all  things  in  it  change, 
O  Lord,  thy  mercies  fail  me  never ; 
Where  once  thou  lov'st,  thou  lov'st  for  ever. 

Great  God,  whose  kingdom  hath  no  end, 

Into  whose  secrets  none  can  dive, 
Whose  mercy  none  can  apprehend, 

Whose  justice  none  can  feel,  —  and  live  ; 
What  my  dull  heart  cannot  aspire 
To  know,  Lord,  teach  me  to  admire  ! 

Qtjarles. 


WAITING  FOR  THE  LORD. 
Ps.  cxxx. 

From  the  depths  of  grief  and  fear, 

O  Lord !  to  thee  my  soul  repairs ; 
From  thy  heaven  bow  down  thy  ear, 
Let  thy  mercy  meet  my  prayers. 
O,  if  thou  mark'st 

What  's  done  amiss, 
What  soul  so  pure, 
Can  see  thy  bliss  ? 


118 


HYMNS. 

But  with  thee  sweet  mercy  stands, 
Sealing  pardons,  working  fear ; 
Wait,  my  soul,  wait  on  his  hands, 
Wait,  mine  eye,  O,  wait  mine  ear ! 
If  he  his  eye 

Or  tongue  affords, 
Watch  all  his  looks, 
Catch  all  his  words. 

As  a  watchman  waits  for  day, 

And  looks  for  light,  and  looks  again  ; 
When  the  night  grows  old  and  gray, 
To  be  relieved  he  calls  amain ; 
So  look,  so  wait, 

So  long  mine  eyes, 
To  see  my  Lord, 
My  sun  arise. 

Wait,  ye  saints,  wait  on  our  Lord, 

For  from  his  tongue  sweet  mercy  flows  ; 
Wait  on  his  cross,  —  wait  on  his  word,  — 
Upon  that  tree  redemption  grows. 
He  will  redeem 

His  Israel 
From  sin  and  wrath, 
From  death  and  hell. 

Fletcher. 


HYMNS.  119 

RELYING  UPON  GOD. 

"  Casting  all  your  care  upon  him,  for  he  careth  for  you."  —1  Pet.  v.  7. 

When  anxious  thoughts  the  bosom  fill, 

And  skies  look  dark  above, 
How  sweet,  reposing  on  his  will, 

To  feel  that  God  is  love  ! 
To  him  our  mean  affairs 

Are  most  minutely  known  ; 
He  weighs  the  burden  of  our  cares, 

And  numbers  every  groan. 

When  fails  each  earthly  confidence, 

And  friends  grow  cold  and  strange, 
I  rest  on  thine  omnipotence, 

On  love  that  cannot  change. 
This  trust  can  ne'er  delude, 

Thy  goodness  is  most  wise  ; 
And  in  thy  bounteous  plenitude, 

My  wealth,  my  portion  lies. 

O,  let  me  still  a  father's  hand 

In  all  my  ways  perceive-; 
And,  when  I  cannot  understand, 

Be  humble  and  believe  ; 
Till  what  I  know  not  now 

Shall  all  be  clearly  shown, 
When  at  thy  throne  my  soul  shall  bow, 

And  know  as  I  am  known. 

Conder. 


120 


HYMNS. 


CONFIDENCE  IN  GOD. 


"  Why  art  thou  cast  down,  0  my  soul  ?  and  why  art  thou  disquieted  with- 
in me  ?  Hope  thou  in  God  ;  for  I  shall  yet  praise  him,  who  is  the  health  of 
my  countenance,  and  my  God."  —  Ps.  xlii.  11. 

O,  let  my  trembling  soul  be  still, 
While  darkness  veils  this  mortal  eye ; 

And  wait  thy  wise,  thy  holy  will, 
Wrapped  yet  in  fears  and  mystery. 

I  cannot,  Lord,  thy  purpose  see, 

Yet  all  is  well,  —  since  ruled  by  thee. 

When,  mounted  on  thy  clouded  car, 
Thou  send'st  thy  darker  spirits  down, 

I  can  discern  thy  light  afar, 

Thy  light  sweet  beaming  through  thy  frown ! 

And  should  I  faint  a  moment,  —  then 

I  think  of  thee,  and  smile  again. 

So,  trusting  in  thy  love,  I  tread 

The  narrow  path  of  duty  on ; 
What  though  some  cherished  joys  are  fled  ! 

What  though  some  flattering  dreams  are  gone  ! 
Yet  purer,  brighter  joys  remain  ; 

Why  should  my  spirit,  then,  complain  ? 

Bowring. 


HYMNS.  121 


OUR  HELP  AND  OUR  SHIELD. 


"  Our  soul  waiteth  for  the  Lord ;  he  is  our  help  and  our  shield.'"  —  Ps. 
xxxiii.  20. 


O  God,  the  Lord  of  place  and  time, 
Who  orderest  all  things  prudently ; 

Brightening  with  beams  the  opening  prime, 
And  burning  in  the  mid-day  sky : 

Quench  thou  the  fires  of  hate  and  strife, 
The  wasting  fever  of  the  heart ; 

From  perils  guard  our  feeble  life, 
And  to  our  souls  thy  peace  impart. 

This  grace  on  thy  redeemed  confer,  — 

Father,  coequal  Son, 
And  Holy  Ghost,  the  Comforter, 

Eternal  Three  in  One. 


"PERFECT  IN  LOVE.! 


li  Whoso  feareth  is  not  made  perfect  in  lore.    Perfect  love  casteth  out  fear." 
1  John  iv.  18. 


"  Perfect  in  love  !  "  —  Lord,  can  it  be, 
Amidst  this  state  of  doubt  and  sin  ? 

While  foes  so  thick  without  I  see, 
With  weakness,  pain,  disease  within, 


122  HYMNS. 

Can  perfect  love  inhabit  here, 

And,  strong  in  faith,  extinguish  fear  ? 

O  Lord !  amidst  this  mental  night, 

Amidst  the  clouds  of  dark  dismay, 
Arise  !  arise  !  shed  forth  thy  light, 
And  kindle  love's  meridian  day. 
My  Saviour  God,  to  me  appear, 
So  love  shall  triumph  over  fear. 


THOUGHTS  IN  AFFLICTION. 

u  All  the  days  of  my  appointed  time  will  I  wait,  till  my  change  come."  ■ 
Job  xiv.  14. 

O  Thou,  my  kind,  chastising  God, 

Help  me  to  own  thy  sway ; 
Teach  me  to  bend  beneath  thy  rod, 

And  cast  my  pride  away. 

Have  I  then  wished  (presumptuous  thought) 

The  weight  of  sorrow  less  ; 
Or  e'er,  with  earthly  weapons,  fought 

Against  my  deep  distress  ? 

Teach  me,  with  meek,  submissive  awe, 

To  own  thy  sovereign  will ; 
E'en  from  thy  rod  my  comforts  draw, 

And  weep,  but  thank  thee  still. 


HYMNS.  123 

And,  O,  if  those,  once  sent  by  thee 

To  soothe  the  bitter  tear, 
Now  seem  thy  messengers  to  be 

Of  judgments  more  severe, — 

Let  me  thy  ruling  hand  discern, 

Thy  voice  of  mercy  know ; 
And  from  thy  gentle  teaching  learn 

To  seek  no  bliss  below. 

A  mourner  through  this  gloomy  vale, 

'T  is  meet  thy  child  should  go, 
Until  thy  mighty  hand  prevail, 

To  conquer  every  foe. 

For  thou  hast  said  an  hour  should  come, 

When,  at  thy  high  behest, 
Earth  shall  prepare  thy  saints  a  home, 

And  thou  amidst  them  rest ! 


REJOICE  ALWAY. 

"  Rejoice  in  the  Lord  alway ;  and  again  I  say,  Rejoice."  —  Phil.  iy.  4. 

Rejoice  in  Christ  alway,  — 

When  earth  looks  heavenly  bright, 

When  joy  makes  glad  the  livelong  day, 
And  peace  shuts  in  the  night. 

Rejoice  when  care  and  woe 
The  fainting  soul  oppress,  — 


124  HYMNS. 

When  tears  at  wakeful  midnight  flow, 
And  morn  brings  heaviness. 

Rejoice  in  hope  and  fear,  — 

Rejoice  in  life  and  death,  — 
Rejoice  when  threatening  storms  are  near, 

And  comfort  languisheth. 
When  should  they  not  rejoice, 

Whom  Christ  his  brethren  calls,  — 
Who  hear  and  know  his  guiding  voice, 

When  on  their  hearts  it  falls  ? 

Yet  not  to  rash  excess 

Let  joy  like  ours  prevail,  — 
Feast  not  on  earth's  deliciousness, 

Till  faith  begin  to  fail. 
Our  temperate  use  of  bliss,  — 

Let  it  to  all  appear ; 
And  be  our  constant  watchword  this,  — 

"  The  Lord  himself  is  near  !  " 

Take  anxious  care  for  naught, 

To  God  your  wants  make  known, 
And  soar,  on  wings  of  heavenly  thought, 

Toward  his  eternal  throne. 
So,  though  our  path  is  steep, 

And  many  a  tempest  lowers, 
Shall  his  own  peace  our  spirits  keep, 

And  Christ's  dear  love  be  ours. 

Moultrie. 


HYMNS.  125 

CONFIDING  IN  GOD. 

CastiDg  all  your  care  upon  him,  for  he  careth  for  you."  — 1  Pet.  v.  7. 

O  Lord  !  how  happy  should  we  be 
If  we  could  cast  our  care  on  thee,  — 

If  we  from  self  could  rest, 
And  feel  at  heart,  that  one  above, 
In  perfect  wisdom,  perfect  love, 

Is  working  for  the  best. 

How  far  from  this  our  daily  life  ! 
Ever  disturbed  by  anxious  strife, 

By  sudden,  wild  alarms  ; 
O,  could  we  but  relinquish  all 
Our  earthly  props,  and  simply  fall 

On  thy  Almighty  arms  ! 

Could  we  but  kneel,  and  cast  our  load, 
E'en  while  we  pray,  upon  our  God, 

Then  rise  with  lightened  cheer,  — 
Sure  that  the  Father,  who  is  nigh 
To  still  the  famished  raven's  cry, 

Will  hear,  in  that  we  fear ! 

We  cannot  trust  him  as  we  should, 
So  chafes  fallen  nature's  restless  mood 
To  cast  its  peace  away  ; 


126  HYMNS. 

Yet  birds  and  flowerets  round  us  preach, 
All,  all,  the  present  evil  teach 
Sufficient  for  the  day. 

Lord,  make  these  faithless  hearts  of  ours 
Such  lesson  learn  from  birds  and  flowers, 

Make  them  from  self  to  cease  ; 
Leave  all  things  to  a  Father's  will, 
And  taste,  before  him  lying  still, 

E'en  in  affliction,  peace. 


Bowring. 


"HOPE  THOU  IN  GOD." 

Ps.  xlii.  5. 

Why,  when  storms  around  you  gather, 
Should  your  trembling  spirit  sink  ? 

Look  to  God,  your  Heavenly  Father, 
And  of  his  sweet  promise  think. 

Fancy  will  be  often  painting 

Scenes  in  dark  and  fearful  shade  ; 

Yet  why  should  thy  soul  be  fainting, 
Of  prospective  woes  afraid  ? 

Cease  that  dark  anticipation ! 

Still  let  love  and  faith  abound ; 
For  the  day  of  tribulation, 

Strength  sufficient  will  be  found. 


HYMNS.  127 

God  is  love,  and  will  not  leave  you, 
When  you  most  his  kindness  need  ; 

God  is  true,  nor  can  deceive  you, 
Though  your  faith  be  weak  indeed. 

Whitehead. 


ENDURING   TRUST. 

"  For  this  God  is  our  God,  for  ever  and  ever ;  he  will  be  our  guide  even 
unto  death."  —  Ps.  xlviii.  14. 


O  Lord,  my  best  desire  fulfil, 

And  help  me  to  resign 
Life,  health,  and  comfort  to  thy  will, 

And  make  thy  pleasure  mine. 

Why  should  I  shrink  at  thy  command, 
Whose  love  forbids  my  fears  ; 

Or  tremble  at  the  gracious  hand 
That  wipes  away  my  tears  ? 

No,  let  me  rather  freely  yield 
What  most  I  prize  to  thee, 

Who  never  hast  a  good  withheld, 
Or  wilt  withhold,  from  me. 

Thy  favor  all  my  journey  through, 
Thou  hast  engaged  to  grant ; 

What  else  I  want,  or  think  I  do, 
'T  is  better  still  to  want. 


128  HYMNS. 

Wisdom  and  mercy  guide  my  way,  — 

Shall  I  resist  them  both  ? 
The  poor,  blind  creature  of  a  day, 

And  crushed  before  the  moth  ! 

But  ah  !  my  inward  spirit  cries,  — 

Still  bind  me  to  thy  sway ; 
Else  the  next  cloud  that  veils  my  skies 

Drives  all  these  thoughts  away. 

Cowper. 


STRENGTH  PERFECT  IN  WEAKNESS. 

"  For  my  strength,  is  made  perfect  in  weakness."  —  2  Cor.  sii.  9. 

Since  't  is  God's  will,  pain,  take  your  course, 
Exert  on  me  your  utmost  force, — 
I  well  God's  truth  and  promise  know ; 

He  never  sends  a  woe, 

But  his  supports  divine 
In  due  proportion  with  the  affliction  join. 

Though  I  am  frailest  of  mankind, 
And  apt  to  waver  as  the  wind,  — 
Though  me  no  feeble  bruised  reed 

In  weakness  can  exceed,  — 

My  soul  on  God  relies, 
And  I  your  fierce,  redoubled  shocks  despise. 


HYMNS.  129 


Patient,  resigned,  and  humble  wills 

Impregnably  resist  all  ills. 

My  God  will  guide  me  by  his  light, 

Give  me  victorious  might ; 

No  pang  can  me  invade, 
Beneath  his  wings'  propitious  shade. 


Ken. 


"THOU  HAST  BEEN  MY  REFUGE." 
Ps.  Mx.  16. 

O  strange  infirmity  !  to  think 
That  he  will  leave  my  soul  to  sink 

In  darkness  and  distress, 
Who  has  appeared  in  times  of  old, 
Who  saved  me  while  the  billows  rolled, 

And  cheered  me  with  his  grace. 

What  sweeter  pledge  could  God  bestow, 
Of  help  in  future  scenes  of  woe, 

Than  grace  already  given  ? 
But  unbelief,  that  hateful  thing, 
Oft  makes  me  sigh,  when  I  should  sing 

Of  confidence  in  Heaven  ! 

Searle^ 


130  HYMNS. 


BESTING  ON  GOD. 


"  My  meditation  of  him  shall  be  sweet ;  I  will  be  glad  in  the  Lord.' 
Ps.  civ.  34. 


When  languor  and  disease  invade 
This  trembling  house  of  clay, 

'T  is  sweet  to  look  beyond  my  pain, 
And  long  to  fly  away  :  — 

Sweet  to  look  inward,  and  attend 

The  whispers  of  his  love ; 
Sweet  to  look  upward,  to  the  place 

Where  Jesus  pleads  above  :  — 

Sweet  to  look  back,  and  see  my  name 
In  life's  fair  book  set  down ; 

Sweet  to  look  forward,  and  behold 
Eternal  joys  my  own  :  — 

Sweet  to  reflect  how  grace  divine 

My  sins  on  Jesus  laid  ; 
Sweet  to  remember  that  his  blood 

My  debt  of  suffering  paid  :  — 

Sweet  in  his  righteousness  to  stand, 
Whose  love  can  never  end  ; 

Sweet  on  his  covenant  of  grace 
For  all  things  to  depend  :  — 


HYMNS.  131 

Sweet  on  his  faithfulness  to  rest, 

Whose  love  can  never  end  ; 
Sweet  on  the  covenant  of  his  grace 

For  all  things  to  depend  : — 

Sweet  in  the  confidence  of  faith, 

To  trust  his  firm  decrees  ; 
Sweet  to  lie  passive  in  his  hands, 

And  know  no  will  but  his  :  — 

'T  is  sweet  to  rest  in  lively  hope, 
That,  when  my  change  shall  come, 

Angels  will  hover  round  my  bed, 
And  waft  my  spirit  home. 

Then  shall  my  disembodied  soul 

Behold  him  and  adore  ; 
Be  with  his  likeness  satisfied, 

And  grieve  and  sin  no  more. 

Toplady. 


"BE  STILL,  AND  KNOW  THAT  I  AM  GOD." 

Ps.  xlri.  10. 

When  I  can  trust  my  all  with  God, 

In  trial's  fearful  hour,  — 
Bow,  all  resigned,  beneath  his  rod, 

And  bless  his  sparing  power,  — 
A  joy  springs  up  amid  distress, 
A  fountain  in  the  wilderness. 


132  HYMNS. 

O,  to  be  brought  to  Jesus'  feet, 
Though  sorrows  fix  me  there, 

Is  still  a  privilege,  —  and  sweet 
The  energies  of  prayer, 

Though  sighs  and  tears  its  language  be, 

If  Christ  be  nigh,  and  smile  on  me  ! 

O,  blessed  be  the  hand  that  gave  ; 

Still  blessed  when  it  takes  :  — 
Blessed  be  he  who  smites  to  save, 

Who  heals  the  heart  he  breaks : 
Perfect  and  true  are  all  his  ways, 
Whom  heaven  adores,  and  death  obeys. 

Conder. 


"LORD,  AND  WHAT  SHALL  THIS  MAN  DO?" 

John  xxi.  21. 

"  Lord,  and  what  shall  this  man  do  ?  " 
Ask'st  thou,  Christian,  for  thy  friend  ? 

If  his  love  for  Christ  be  true, 
Christ  hath  told  thee  of  his  end : 

This  is  he  whom  God  approves, 

This  is  he  whom  Jesus  loves. 

Ask  not  of  him  more  than  this, 
Leave  it  in  his  Saviour's  breast,  — 

Whether,  early  called  to  bliss, 
He  in  youth  shall  find  his  rest,  — 


HYMNS.  133 

Or,  armed  in  his  station,  wait, 
Till  his  Lord  be  at  the  gate. 

Whether  in  his  lonely  course, 

(Lonely,  not  forlorn,)  he  stay, 
Or,  with  love's  supporting  force, 

Cheat  the  toil  and  cheer  the  way  : 
Leave  it  all  in  his  high  hand, 
Who  doth  hearts,  as  streams,  command. 

Gales  from  heaven,  if  so  he  will, 

Sweeter  melodies  can  wake 
On  the  lonely  mountain  rill, 

Than  the  meeting  waters  make. 
Who  hath  the  Father  and  the  Son 
May  be  left,  —  but  not  alone. 

Sick  or  healthful,  slave  or  free, 
Wealthy,  or  despised  and  poor,  — 

What  is  that  to  him  or  thee, 
So  his  love  to  Christ  endure  ? 

When  the  shore  is  won  at  last, 

Who  will  count  the  billows  past  ? 

Only,  since  our  souls  will  shrink 

At  the  touch  of  natural  grief, 
When  our  earthly,  loved  ones  sink, 

Lend  us,  Lord,  thy  sure  relief; 
Patient  hearts,  their  pain  to  see, 
And  thy  grace,  to  follow  thee. 

Keble. 


134  HYMNS. 


PATIENCE  IN  AFFLICTION. 

"  To  appoint  unto  them  that  mourn  in  Zion,  to  give  unto  them  beauty  for 
ashes,  the  oil  of  joy  for  mourning,  the  garment  of  praise  for  the  spirit  of  heav- 
iness."—  Isa.  li.3. 

Mourner  in  Zion  !  do  not  weep, — 
The  Lord  thou  lov'st  may  long  delay ; 

Yet  still  thy  patient  vigils  keep, 
That  soothing  voice  shall  all  repay. 

O,  weep  no  more  !  thy  God  shall  hear  ; 

From  dwellings  of  adversity 
Thine  humble  cry  shall  reach  his  ear, 

And  soon  his  voice  shall  answer  thee. 

And,  though  his  hand  to  thee  may  deal 
The  bitter  bread  of  earthly  woe, 

And  though  across  thy  path  may  steal 
The  waves  of  sorrowi  sad  and  slow,  — 

A  time  shall  come,  when,  O,  how  sweet ! 

A  voice,  a  heavenly  voice,  shall  say,  — 
"  This  is  the  pathway  for  thy  feet : 

Turn  hither,  turn,  no  more  to  stray." 

And  he  shall  give  thee  songs  of  cheer, 
And,  O,  how  blest  thy  heart  shall  be  ! 

Mourner  in  Zion  !  dry  the  tear,  — 
The  Lord  thy  God  shall  comfort  thee. 

E.  Taylor. 


HYMNS.  135 

WHO  IS  ALONE? 

"  Surely  the  Lord  is  in  this  place."  —  Gen.  xxriii.  16. 

How  heavily  the  path  of  life 

Is  trod  by  him  who  walks  alone ; 
Who  hears  not,  on  his  dreary  way, 

Affection's  sweet  and  cheering  tone  ; 
Alone,  —  although  his  heart  shall  bound 

With  love  to  all  things  great  and  fair,  — 
They  love  him  not,  —  there  is  not  one 

His  sorrow  or  his  joy  to  share. 

The  ancient  stars  look  coldly  down 

On  man,  the  creature  of  a  day  ; 
They  lived  before  him,  and  live  on, 

Till  his  remembrance  pass  away. 
The  mountain  lifts  its  hoary  head, 

Nor  to  his  homage  deigns  reply  ; 
The  stormy  billows  bear  him  forth,  — 

Regardless  which,  —  to  live  or  die. 

The  floweret  blooms  unseen  by  him, 

Unmindful  of  his  warmest  praise  ; 
And,  if  it  fades,  seeks  not  his  hand, 

Its  drooping  loveliness  to  raise. 
The  brute  creation  own  his  power, 

And,  grateful,  serve  him,  though  in  fear  ; 
Yet  cannot  sympathize  with  man  ; 

For,  if  he  weeps,  they  shed  no  tear. 


136  HYMNS. 

Alone,  —  though  in  the  busy  town, 

Where  hundreds  hurry  to  and  fro,  — 
If  there  is  none,  who,  for  his  sake, 

A  selfish  pleasure  would  forego  ;  — 
And,  O,  how  lonely  among  those 

Who  have  not  skill  to  read  his  heart, 
When  first  he  learns  how  summer  friends, 

At  sight  of  wintiy  storms,  depart  ! 

My  Saviour !  and  didst  thou,  too,  feel 

How  sad  it  is  to  be  alone  ; 
Deserted,  in  the  adverse  hour, 

By  those  who  most  thy  love  had  known  ? 
The  gloomy  path,  though  distant  still, 

Was  ever  present  to  thy  view  ; 
O,  how  couldst  thou,  foreseeing  it, 

For  us  that  painful  course  pursue  ? 

Forsaken  by  thy  nearest  friends, 

Surrounded  by  malicious  foes, 
No  kindly  voice  encouraged  thee, 

When  the  loud  shout  of  scorn  uprose. 
Yet  there  was  calm  within  thy  soul ; 

Nor  stoic  pride  that  calmness  kept ; 
Nor  Godhead  unapproached  by  woe,  — 

Like  man,  thou  hadst  both  loved  and  wept. 

Thou  wert  not  then  alone,  —  for  God 
Sustained  thee  by  his  mighty  power  ; 

His  arm  most  felt,  his  care  most  seen, 
When  needed  most,  in  saddest  hour. 


HYMNS.  137 

None  else  could  comfort,  none  else  knew 
How  dreadful  was  the  curse  of  sin ; 

He  who  controlled  the  storm  without, 
Could  gently  whisper  peace  within. 

Who  is  alone,  if  God  be  nigh  ? 

Who  shall  repine  at  loss  of  friends, 
While  he  has  one  of  boundless  power, 

Whose  constant  kindness  never  ends  ? 
Whose  presence,  felt,  enhances  joy, 

Whose  love  can  stop  each  flowing  tear, 
And  cause,  upon  the  darkest  cloud, 

The  pledge  of  mercy  to  appear  ? 


GOD,  MY  HELPER. 

"  I  was  brought  low,  and  he  helped  me."  —  Ps.  cxvi.  6. 

O  thou,  God  !  who  nearest  prayer, 
Every  hour,  and  everywhere  ; 
Listen  to  my  feeble  breath, 
Now  I  touch  the  gates  of  death. 
For  his  sake,  whose  blood  I  plead, 
Hear  me,  in  the  hour  of  need. 

Hear,  and  save  me,  gracious  Lord ! 
For  my  trust  is  in  thy  word  ; 
Wash  me  from  the  stain  of  sin, 
That  thy  peace  may  rule  within. 


138  HYMNS. 

May  I  know  myself  thy  child, — 
Ransomed,  pardoned,  reconciled. 

Dearest  Lord  !  may  I  so  much 
As  thy  garment's  hem  to  touch  ; 
Or  but  raise  my  languid  eye 
To  the  cross,  where  thou  didst  die  ; 
It  shall  make  my  spirit  whole,  — 
It  shall  heal  and  save  my  soul. 

Thou  art  merciful  to  save  ; 

Thou  hast  snatched  me  from  the  grave ; 

I  would  kiss  the  chastening  rod, 

O  my  Father  and  my  God  ! 

Only  hide  not  now  thy  face, 

God  of  all-sufficient  grace  ! 

Leave  me  not,  my  strength,  my  trust ; 
O,  remember  I  am  dust ! 
Leave  me  not,  again  to  stray ; 
Leave  me  not,  the  tempter's  prey ; 
Fix  my  heart  on  things  above, 
Make  me  happy  in  thy  love. 


MY  ONLY  PORTION. 

"  Whom  hare  I  in  heaven,  hut  thee  ?  and  there  is  none  upon  earth  that  1 
desire  besides  thee."  —  Ps.  lxxiii.  25. 

Lord  of  earth  !  thy  bounteous  hand 
Well  this  glorious  frame  has  planned  ; 


HYMNS.  139 

Woods  that  wave,  and  hills  that  tower, 
Ocean  rolling  in  his  power,  — 
All  that  strikes  the  gaze  unsought, 
All  that  charms  the  lonely  thought ;  — 
Friendship,  —  gem  transcending  price  ; 
Love, —  a  flower  from  Paradise. 
Yet,  amid  this  scene  so  fair, 
Should  I  cease  thy  smile  to  share, 
What  were  all  its  joys  to  me  ? 
"  Whom  have  I  in  heaven  but  thee  ?  " 

Lord  of  heaven  !  beyond  our  sight 
Rolls  a  world  of  purer  light,  — 
There,  in  love's  unclouded  reign, 
Parted  hands  shall  join  again  ; 
Martyrs  there,  and  prophets  high, 
Blaze,  a  glorious  company,  — 
While  immortal  music  rings 
From  unnumbered  seraph  strings. 
O,  that  scene  is  passing  fair ! 
Yet,  shouldst  thou  be  absent  there, 
What  were  all  its  joys  to  me  ? 
"  Whom  have  I  in  heaven  but  thee  ?  " 

Lord  of  earth  and  heaven  !  my  breast 
Seeks  in  thee  its  only  rest ; 
I  was  lost,  —  thy  accents  mild, 
Homeward  lured  thy  wandering  child  ; 
I  was  blind,  —  thy  healing  ray 
Charmed  the  long  eclipse  away,  — 


140  HYMNS. 

Source  of  eveiy  joy  I  know, 
Solace  of  my  every  woe  ; 
Yet  should  once  thy  smile  divine 
Cease  upon  my  soul  to  shine, 
What  were  heaven  or  earth  to  me  ? 
"  Whom  have  I  in  heaven  but  thee  ?  " 

Grant. 


GOD  NEAR. 

''Though  he  be  not  far  from  every  one  of  us."  —  Acts  xvii.  27. 

Thou  art  near,  — yes,  Lord,  I  feel  it, — 
Thou  art  near  where'er  I  move  ; 

And,  though  sense  would  fain  conceal  it, 
Faith  oft  whispers  it  to  love. 

Thou  art  near,  —  O,  what  a  terror 
To  the  soul  that  loves  thee  not ! 

Thou  art  near  to  mark  each  error, 
Where  it  cannot  be  forgot. 

Thou  art  near,  —  O,  what  a  blessing 
To  the  souls  thy  love  hath  blest ! 

Souls,  thy  daily  care  confessing, 
Daily  by  their  God  confessed. 

Why  should  I  despond  or  tremble, 
"When  Jehovah  stoops  to  cheer  ? 

But,  O,  far  rather,  why  dissemble 
When  Omniscience  is  near  ? 


HYMNS.  141 

Am  I  weak  ?  thine  arm  will  aid  me 
Safe  through  eveiy  danger,  Lord ; 

Am  I  hungry  ?  thou  wilt  feed  me 
With  the  manna  of  thy  word. 

Am  I  thirsty  ?  thou  wilt  guide  me 

Where  refreshing  waters  flow  ; 
Faint  or  feeble,  thou  'It  provide  me 

Grace  for  every  want  I  know. 

Am  I  fearful  ?  thou  wilt  take  me 

Underneath  thy  wings,  my  God  ; 
Am  I  faithless  ?  thou  wilt  make  me 

Bow  beneath  thy  chastening  rod. 

Am  1  drooping  ?  thou  art  near  me, 

Near  to  bear  me  on  my  way. 
Am  I  pleading  ?  thou  wilt  hear  me,  — 

Hear  and  answer  when  I  pray. 

Then,  0  my  soul,  since  God  doth  love  thee, 

Faint  not,  droop  not,  do  not  fear ; 
For,  though  his  heaven  is  high  above  thee, 

He  himself  is  ever  near ;  — 

Near,  to  watch  thy  wayward  spirit, 
Sometimes  cold  and  careless  -grown ; 

But  likewise  near  with  grace  and  merit, 
All  thy  Saviour's,  thence  thine  own. 

Monsell. 


142  HYMNS. 

GOD  NEVER  EAELETH. 

"  Doth  his  promise  fail  for  evermore."  —  Ps.  lxxvii.  8. 

Life  nor  death  shall  us  dissever 
From  His  love,  who  reigns  for  ever ; 
Will  he  fail  us  ?  never,  never  ! 
When  to  him  we  cry. 

Sin  may  seek  to  snare  us, 

Fury,  passion,  tear  us  ! 

Doubt  and  fear,  and  dark  despair, 

Their  fangs  against  us  try. 

But  his  might  shall  still  defend  us, 
And  his  blessed  Son  befriend  us, 
And  his  Holy  Spirit  send  us 
Comfort,  ere  we  die. 


LORD,  I  BELIEVE. 

"  Lord,  I  believe  ;  help  thou  mine  unbelief."  —  Mark  ix.  24. 

Yes,  I  do  feel;  my  God,  that  I  am  thine ; 

Thou  art  my  joy,  —  myself,  mine  only  grief ; 
Hear  my  complaint,  low  bending  at  thy  shrine,  - 

"  Lord,  I  believe  ;  help  thou  mine  unbelief." 


HYMNS.  143 

Unworthy  even  to  approach  so  near, 

My  soul  lies  trembling  like  a  summe  's  leaf; 

Yet,  O,  forgive  !  I  doubt  not,  though  I  fear,  — 
"  Lord,  I  believe ;  help  thou  mine  unbelief." 

True,  I  am  weak,  ah  !  veiy  weak  ;  but  then 
I  know  the  source  whence  I  can  draw  relief; 

And,  though  repulsed,  I  still  can  plead  again,  — 
"  Lord,  I  believe  ;  help  thou  mine  unbelief." 

0,  draw  me  nearer ;  for,  too  far  away, 

The  beamings  of  thy  brightness  are  too  brief; 
While    faith,    though    fainting,    still  have    strength   to 
pray,— 
"  Lord,  I  believe  ;  help  thou  mine  unbelief." 

Moxsell. 


CHEERFUL  AND   SAD. 

"  Is  any  among  you  afflicted  ?  let  him  pray.    Is  any  merry  ?  let  him 
psalms."  —  James  v.  13. 

Wake  now,  my  soul,  and  humbly  hear 
What  thy  mild  Lord  commands  ; 

Each  word  of  his  will  charm  thine  ear, 
Each  word  will  guide  thy  hands. 

Hark  how  his  sweet  and  tender  care 
Complies  with  our  weak  minds  ; 

Whate'er  our  state  and  tempers  are, 
Still  some  fit  work  he  finds. 


144  HYMNS. 

They  that  are  merry,  let  them  sing, 
And  let  the  sad  hearts  pray ; 

Let  those  still  ply  their  cheerful  wing, 
And  these  their  sober  way. 

So  mounts  the  early,  chirping  lark, 
Still  upwards  to  the  skies  ; 

So  sits  the  turtle  in  the  dark, 
Sighing  out  groans  and  cries. 

And  yet  the  lark,  and  yet  the  dove, 
Both  sing  through  several  parts ; 

And  so  should  we,  howe'er  we  move, 
With  light  or  heavy  hearts. 

Or,  rather,  both  should  both  assay, 
And  their  cross-notes  unite  ; 

Both  grief  and  joy  should  sing  and  pray, 
Since  both  such  hopes  invite. 

Hopes,  that  all  present  sorrow  heal, 
All  present  joy  transcend  ; 

Hopes  to  possess,  and  taste,  and  feel, 
Delights  that  never  end. 

All  glory  to  the  Sacred  Three, 
All  honor,  power,  and  praise  ; 

As  at  the  first,  may  ever  be, 
Beyond  the  end  of  days. 


HYMNS.  145 


PRESUMPTION  AND  DESPAIR. 

And  in  my  prosperity  I  said,  I  shall  never  be  moved."  —  Ps.  xxx.  6. 

One  time  I  was  allowed  to  steer 
Through  realms  of  azure  light ; 

Henceforth,  I  said,  I  need  not  fear 
A  lower,  meaner  flight ; 

But  here  shall  evermore  abide, 

In  light  and  splendor  glorified. 

My  heart  one  time  the  rivers  fed, 

Large  dews  upon  it  lay  ; 
A  freshness  it  has  won,  I  said, 

Which  shall  not  pass  away ; 
But  what  it  is,  it  shall  remain, 
Its  freshness  to  the  end  retain. 

But  when  I  lay  upon  tho  shore, 
Like  some  poorr  wounded  thing, 

1  deemed  I  should  not  evermore 
Refit  my  shattered  wing ; 

Nailed  to  the  ground,  and  fastened  there, 

This  was  the  thought  of  my  despair. 

And,  when  my  very  heart  seemed  dried, 
And  parched  as  summer  dust, 

Such  still  I  deemed  it  must  abide  , 
No  hope  had  I,  no  trust 
10 


146  HYMNS. 

That  any  power  again  could  bless 
With  fountains  that  waste  wilderness. 

But  if  both  hope  and  fear  were  vain, 

And  came  alike  to  naught, 
Two  lessons  we  from  this  may  gain, 

If  aught  can  teach  us  aught,  — 
One  lesson  rather,  —  to  divide 
Between  our  fearfulness  and  pride. 

Trench. 


"I  AM  LIKE  A  BROKEN  VESSEL." 
Ps.  xxri.  12. 

O  Thou,  whose  wise,  paternal  love 

Hath  brought  my  active  vigor  down,  — 

Thy  choice  I  thankfully  approve  ; 

And,  prostrate  at  thy  gracious  throne, 

I  offer  up  my  life's  remains  ; 

I  choose  the  state  my  God  ordains. 

Cast  as  a  broken  vessel  by, 
Thy  will  I  can  no  longer  do  ; 

Yet,  while  a  daily  death  I  die, 

Thy  power  I  may  in  weakness  show ; 

My  patience  may  thy  glory  raise,  — 

My  speechless  woe  proclaim  thy  praise. 


HYMNS."  147 

But  since,  without  thy  Spirit's  might, 
Thou  know'st  I  nothing  can  endure, 

The  help  I  ask,  in  Jesus1  right, 

The  strength  he  did  for  me  procure, 

Father,  abundantly  impart, 

And  arm  with  love  my  feeble  heart. 

O,  let  me  live,  of  thee  possessed, 
In  weakness,  weariness,  and  pain  ; 

The  anguish  of  my  laboring  breast, 
The  daily  cross  I  still  sustain, 

For  him  that  languished  on  the  tree,  — 
But  lived,  before  he  died,  for  me. 

Steele. 


CHRIST   MY  REFUGE. 

"  Who  have  fled  for  refuge  to  lay  hold  upon  the  hope  set  before  us." 
Heb.  vi.  18. 

Jesus,  lover  of  my  soul ! 

Let  me  to  thy  bosom  fly ; 
While  the  nearer  waters  roll, 

While  the  tempest  still  is  high. 
Hide  me,  O  my  Saviour,  hide, 

Till  the  storm  of  life  be  past ! 
Safe  into  the  haven  guide  ; 

O,  receive  my  soul  at  last ! 


148  HYMNS. 

Other  refuge  have  I  none  ; 

Hangs  my  helpless  soul  on  thee  ; 
Leave,  ah  !  leave  me  not  alone, — 

Still  support  and  comfort  me. 
All  my  trust  on  thee  is  stayed  ; 

All  my  help  from  thee  I  bring ; 
Cover  my  defenceless  head 

With  the  shadow  of  thy  wing. 

Thou,  O  Christ !  art  all  I  want : 

More  than  all  in  thee  I  find. 
Raise  the  fallen,  cheer  the  faint, 

Heal  the  sick,  and  lead  the  blind. 
Just  and  holy  is  thy  name  : 

I  am  all  unrighteousness, 
False,  and  full  of  sin  I  am : 

Thou  art  full  of  truth  and  grace. 

Plenteous  grace  with  thee  is  found ; 

Grace,  to  cover  all  my  sin. 
Let  the  healing  streams  abound,  — 

Make,  and  keep  me  pure  within  ; 
Thou  of  life  the  fountain  art,  — 

Freely  let  me  take  of  thee ; 
Spring  thou  up  within  my  heart,  — 

Rise,  to  all  eternity. 

C.  Wesley, 


HYMNS.  149 

GO   AND   TELL  JESUS. 

i 

"  And  they  came  unto  him  from  every  quarter/'  —  Mark.  i.  45. 

Go  and  tell  Jesus  when  thy  heart  is  glad, 

And  hope  and  joy  and  friendship  crowd  thy  way. 

Ask  for  his  sanctifying  grace  o'er  all, 

That  naught  may  cause  thy  heart  from  him  to  stray. 

Go  and  tell  Jesus,  making  joy  more  bright, 

Shedding  o'er  all  thy  path  a  holy  light. 

Go  and  tell  Jesus  when  thy  sins  arise 

In  dread  and  dark  perspective  to  thy  sight, 

Saviour,  I  am  unclean,  unclean,  O,  save ! 

O,  cheer  my  gloomy  way  with  thy  clear  light ! 

Go  and  tell  Jesus,  —  he  will  speak  to  thee. 

Be  of  good  cheer,  —  thy  sins  shall  pardoned  be. 

Go  and  tell  Jesus  when  thy  heart  is  full 
Of  keen  and  bitter  agony  and  woe  ;  — 
When  the  dear,  precious  form  of  one  beloved 
Is  parted  from  thee,  —  in  the  grave  laid  low. 
Go  and  tell  Jesus,  —  he  will  soothe  thy  grief, 
To  thy  poor,  suffering  spirit  give  relief. 

Go  and  tell  Jesus  when  thy  weak  heart  fails, 
In  looking  through  the  mist  of  coming  years ; 
Thou  think'st  of  sorrow,  pain,  and  loneliness, 
And  the  bright  world  seems  but  a  vale  of  tears. 


150  HYMNS. 

Go  and  tell  Jesus,  —  he  will  say  to  thee, 
I  thy  good  Shepherd  am  ;  O,  trust  in  me  ! 

Go  and  tell  Jesus  ;  so  shall  he  be  thine, 
And  sweetly  will  he  come  and  dwell  with  thee. 
Tell  all  to  Jesus  ;  so  shalt  thou  be  his, 
His  through  all  time  and  all  eternity. 
Saviour,  I  come  ;  O,  teach  me  how  to  pray  ! 
Thou  only  canst,  my  life,  my  truth,  my  way. 


CHRIST'S  DISCIPLINE. 


"  Nevertheless,  afterward  it  yieldeth  the  peaceable  fruit  of  righteousness  unto 
them  which  are  exercised  thereby."  —  Heb.  xii.  11. 


O  Saviour  !  whose  mercy,  severe  in  its  kindness, 
Has  chastened  my  wanderings  and  guided  my  way, 

Adored  be  the  power  which  illumined  my  blindness 
And  weaned  me  from  phantoms  that  smiled  to  betray. 

Enchanted  with  all  that  was  dazzling  and  fair 
I  followed  the  rainbow,  I  caught  at  the  toy, 

And  still  in  displeasure  thy  goodness  was  there, 
Disappointing  the  hope  and  defeating  the  joy. 

The  blossom  blushed  bright,  —  but  a  worm  was  below ; 
The  moonlight  shone  fair,  —  there  was  blight  in  the 
beam; 


HYMNS.  151 

Sweet  whispered  the  breeze,  but  it  whispered  of  woe, 
And  bitterness  flowed  in  the  soft-flowing  stream. 

So,  cured  of  my  folly,  but  cured  but  in  part, 
I  turned  to  the  refuge  thy  pity  displayed ; 

But  still  did  this  eager  and  credulous  heart 

Weave  visions  of  joy  that  bloomed  but  to  fade. 

I  thought  that  the  course  of  the  pilgrim  to  heaven 
Would  be  bright  as  the  sun,  and  glad  as  the  morn  ; 

Thou  show'dst  me  the  path,  —  it  was  dark  and  uneven, 
All  rugged  with  rock  and  all  tangled  with  thorn. 

I  dreamed  of  celestial-  rewards  and  renown, 

I  grasped  at  the  triumph  which  blesses  the  brave  ; 

I  asked  for  the  palm-branch,  the  robe,  and  the  crown, 
I  asked,  and  thou  show'dst  me  a  cross  and  a  grave. 

Subdued  and  instructed,  at  length,  to  thy  will 
My  hopes  and  my  longings  I  fain  would  resign  ; 

O,  give  me  the  heart  that  can  wait  and  be  still, 
Nor  know  of  a  wish  or  a  pleasure  but  thine  ! 

There  are  mansions  exempted  from  sin  and  from  woe, 
But  they  stand  in  a  region  by  mortals  untrod. 

There  are  rivers  of  joy,  but  they  roll  not  below  ; 
There  is  rest,  but  it  dwells  in  the  presence  of  God. 


152  HYMNS. 


THE  BORDER-LAND. 

•'  For  the  Lord  thy  God  bringeth  thee  into  a  good  land,  a  land  of  brooks  of 
water,  of  fountains  and  depths  that  spring  out  of  valleys  and  hills."  —  Deut. 
viii.  7. 

I  have  been  to  a  land,  a  Border-land, 

Where  there  was  but  a  strange,  dim  light, 
Where  shadows  and  dreams  in  a  spectral  band 

Seemed  real  to  the  aching  sight. 
I  scarce  bethought  me  how  there  I  came, 

Or  if  thence  I  should  pass  again  ; 
Its  morning  and  light  were  marked  by  the  flight 

Or  coming  of  woe  and  pain. 

But  I  saw  from  this  land,  this  Border-land, 

With  mountain  ridges  hoar, 
That  they  looked  across  to  a  wondrous  strand, 

A  bright  and  unearthly  shore. 
Then  I  turned  me  to  Him,  "  the  Crucified," 

In  most  humble  faith  and  prayer, 
Who  had  ransomed  with  blood  my  sinful  soul, 

For  I  thought  he  would  call  me  there. 

Yet  nay  ;  for  a  while  in  the  Border-land 

He  bade  me  in  patience  stay, 
And  gather  rich  fruits  with  a  trembling  hand, 

Whilst  he  cheered  its  glooms  away. 
He  has  led  me  amid  those  shadows  dim 

And  shown  that  bright  world  so  near, 
To  teach  me  that  earnest  trust  in  Him 

Is  the  one  thing  needful  here. 


HYMNS.  153 


NOT  UNCLOTHED,  BUT   CLOTHED   UPON. 

H  For  we  that  are  in  this  tabernacle  do  groan,  being  burdened ;  not  for 
that  we  would  be  unclothed,  but  clothed  upon,  that  mortality  might  be 
swallowed  up  of  life."  —  2  Cor.  v.  4. 

In  health,  O  Lord,  and  prosperous  days, 
When  worldly  wealth,  or  worldly  praise, 
When  worldly  thoughts  have  filled  our  heart, 
We  would  not  from  the  body  part  ;  - — 
And  then  the  very  thought  is  loathed, 
That  we  must  be  by  death  unclothed. 

In  sickness,  sorrow,  or  in  shame, 
We  fain  would  quit  this  mortal  frame  ; 
But  thus  to  shrink  from  toil  and  pain,  — 
This  is  not  longing  for  thy  reign  ; 
Brought  low,  we  only  seek  to  be 
Unclothed,  —  not  clothed  upon  by  thee. 

0,  rather  help  us  as  we  ought 

To  feel  what  thine  apostle  taught,  — 

That  not  for  aye  we  seek  to  wear 

This  form  of  clay,  corruption's  heir ; 

Nor  yet,  impatient,  ask  alone 

To  be  unclothed,  but  clothed  upon. 

O  blessed  Lord  !  whose  merits  dress 
Thy  saints  in  robes  of  righteousness  ; 


154  HYMNS. 

Through  whom,  for  us,  eternal  stands 
That  heavenly  house,  not  made  with  hands,  — 
When  this  frail  dwelling  sets  us  free, 
Quench  thou,  in  life,  mortality. 


FRIENDSHIP  WITH   CHRIST. 

"  Nevertheless,  I  am  continually  -with  thee ;  thou  hast  holden  me  by  my 
right  hand."  —  Ps.  lxxiii.  23. 

When,  in  the  hours  of  lonely  woe, 
I  give  my  sorrows  leave  to  flow, 
And  anxious  fear  and  dark  distrust 
Weigh  down  my  spirit  to  the  dust ; 
When  not  e'en  friendship's  gentle  aid 
Can  heal  the  wounds  the  world  has  made ; 
O,  this  shall  check  each  rising  sigh,  — 
Thou,  Saviour,  art  for  ever  nigh. 

Jesus  !  in  whom,  but  thee  above, 
Can  I  repose  my  trust,  my  love  ? 
And  shall  an  earthly  object  be 
Loved,  in  comparison  with  thee  ? 
Thy  counsels  and  upholding  care 
My  safety  and  my  comfort  are  ; 
Thou,  Lord,  shalt  guide  me  all  my  days. 
Till  glory  crown  the  work  of  grace. 

My  flesh  is  hastening  to  decay,  — 

Soon  shall  the  world  have  passed  away,  — 


HYMNS.  155 

And  what  can  mortal  friends  avail, 

When  heart  and  strength  and  flesh  shall  fail ! 

But,  O,  be  thou,  my  Saviour,  nigh, 

And  I  will  triumph  while  I  die  ; 

My  strength,  my  portion,  is  divine, 

And  Jesus  is  for  ever  mine  ! 


CHRIST'S   CARE. 

Master,  carest  thou  not  that  we  perish  ?  "  —  Mark  iv.  38. 

Such  was  the  disciples'  cry, 
When  the  crested  waves  beat  high, 
And  the  heavens  above  were  dark, 
O'er  the  tempest-driven  bark. 

Such,  O  Lord,  in  trial's  hour, 
When  afflictions  round  us  lower, 
Now,  on  life's  tempestuous  sea, 
Our  complaining  cry  to  thee. 

But  thou  didst  not,  though  upbraided. 
Leave  thy  followers  then  unaided ; 
Prompt  to  succor,  swift  to  save, 
Thou  rebuke dst  wind  and  wave. 

At  the  word  which  spoke  thy  will, 
Eveiy  stormy  wind  was  still ; 


156  HYMNS. 

At  thy  voice  the  waves  subsided, 
And  in  gentlest  murmurs  glided. 

Though  their  faith,  too  often  frail, 
In  thy  power  divine  might  fail ; 
Though  thou  mightst  reprove  their  fear, 
Still  thy  saving  arm  was  near. 

Thus,  O  Lord,  on  us  look  down, 
When  above  us  clouds  may  frown  ; 
Tossing  on  a  stormy  sea, 
Helpless,  hopeless,  but  for  thee. 

Should  we  deem  ourselves  forgot, 
Let  thy  mercies  fail  us  not ; 
But,  in  doubt's  distrustful  hour, 
Magnify  thy  love  and  power. 


LOOKING  UNTO  JESUS. 

Heb.  xii.  2. 

Thou,  who  didst  stoop  below, 

To  drain  the  cups  of  woe, 
Wearing  the  form  of  frail  mortality, 

Thy  blessed  labors  done, 

Thy  crown  of  victory  won, 
Hast  passed  from  earth,  —  passed  to  thy  home  on  high. 


HYMNS.  157 

Man  may  no  longer  trace, 

In  thy  celestial  face, 
The  image  of  the  bright,  the  viewless  One  ; 

Nor  may  thy  servants  hear, 

Save  with  faith's  raptured  ear, 
Thy  voice  of  tenderness,  God's  holy  Son  ! 

Our  eyes  behold  thee  not ; 

Yet  hast  thou  not  forgot 
Those  who  have  placed  their  hope,  their  trust,  in  thee ; 

Before  thy  Father's  face 

Thou  hast  prepared  a  place, 
That  where  thou  art,  there  they  may  also  be. 

It  was  no  path  of  flowers, 

Through  this  dark  world  of  ours, 
Beloved  of  the  Father,  thou  didst  tread  ; 

And  shall  we  in  dismay 

Shrink  from  the  narrow  way, 
When  clouds  and  darkness  are  around  it  spread  ? 

O  Thou,  who  art  our  life, 

Be  with  us  through  the  strife  ! 
Was  not  thy  head  by  earth's  fierce  tempests  bowed  ? 

Raise  thou  our  eyes  above, 

To  see  a  Father's  love 
Beam,  like  the  bow  of  promise,  through  the  cloud. 

Even  through  the  awful  gloom, 
Which  hovers  o'er  the  tomb, 


158  HYMNS. 

That  light  of  love  our  guiding  star  shall  be ; 

Our  spirits  shall  not  dread 

The  shadowy  way  to  tread, 
Friend,  Guardian,  Saviour,  which  doth  lead  to  thee. 


LOVE  TO   CHRIST. 

"  Who  shall  separate  us  from  the  love  of  Christ  ?  "  —  Rom.  viii.  35- 

Though  sorrows  rise  and  dangers  roll 
In  waves  of  darkness  o'er  my  soul ; 
Though  friends  are  false  and  love  decays, 
And  few  and  evil  are  my  days ; 
Though  conscience,  fiercest  of  my  foes, 
Swells  with  remembered  guilt  my  woes ; 
Yet  even  in  nature's  utmost  ill, 
I  love  thee,  Lord  !  I  love  thee  still ! 

Though  Sinai's  curse,  in  thunder  dread, 
Peals  o'er  mine  unprotected  head, 
And  memory  points,  with  busy  pain, 
To  grace  and  mercy  given  in  vain, 
Till  nature,  shrinking  in  the  strife, 
Would  fly  to  hell  to  'scape  from  life  ; 
Though  every  thought  has  power  to  kill, 
I  love  thee,  Lord  !  I  love  thee  still ! 

O,  by  the  pangs  thyself  hast  borne, 
The  ruffian's  blow,  the  tyrant's  scorn  ; 


HYMNS.  159 

By  Sinai's  curse,  whose  dreadful  doom 

Was  buried  in  thy  guiltless  tomb ; 

By  these  my  pangs,  whose  healing  smart 

Thy  grace  has  planted  in  my  heart,  — 

I  know,  I  feel,  thy  bounteous  will, 

Thou  lov'st  me,  Lord  !     Thou  lov'st  me  still ! 


SUFFERING  WITH  CHRIST. 
"  That  I  may  know  the  fellowship  of  his  sufferings."  —  Phil.  v.  10. 

Long  plunged  in  sorrow,  I  resign 
My  soul  to  that  dear  hand  of  thine, 

Without  reserve  or  fear ; 
That  hand  shall  wipe  my  streaming  eyes, 
Or  into  smiles  of  glad  surprise 

Transform  the  falling  tear  ! 

My  sole  possession  is  thy  love  ; 
In  earth  beneath,  or  heaven  above, 

I  have  no  other  store  ; 
And  though  with  fervent  suit  I  pray, 
And  importune  thee  night  and  day, 

I  ask  thee  nothing  more. 

My  hours  with  undiminished  force 
And  speed  pursue  their  destined  course, 
Obedient  to  thy  will ; 


1 60  HYMNS. 

Nor  would  I  murmur  at  my  doom, 
Though  still  a  sufferer  from  the  womb, 
And  doomed  to  suffer  still. 

By  thy  command,  where'er  I  stray, 
Sorrow  attends  me  all  my  way, 

A  never-failing  friend ; 
And  if  my  sufferings  may  augment 
Thy  praise,  behold  me  well  content,  — 

Let  sorrow  still  attend  ! 

It  costs  me  no  regret,  that  she 

Who  followed  Christ  should  follow  me ; 

And  though,  where'er  she  goes, 
Thorns  spring  spontaneous  at  her  feet, 
I  love  her,  and  extract  a  sweet 

From  all  my  bitter  woes. 

Guion. 


PATIENCE. 

"  But  let  patience  have  her  perfect  work.-'  —  James  i.  4. 

O  thou,  to  wisdom  near  allied, 
A  female  virtue  void  of  pride, 

Though  more,  a  grace,  divine  ; 
Virtue  or  grace,  whiche'er  thou  art, 
The  frequent  sigh  that  rends  my  heart 

Proves  that  thou  art  not  mine. 


HYMNS.  161 

Though  here  no  furious  passion  sways, 
Too  oft  a  starting  tear  betrays 

A  pang  that  should  not  be  ; 
Though  no  resentment  holds  her  seat, 
Too  apt  the  unequal  pulse  to  beat, 

Sweet  Patience,  not  to  thee. 

Could  reason  and  her  powers  of  thought 
Calm  the  quick  sense  to  anguish  brought, 

Soon  would  the  tumult  cease  ; 
Pride  might  control  the  wayward  will, 
And  bid  the  rising  storm  be  still, 

But  vainly  whispers  peace. 

'T  is  thine,  O  Patience,  to  endure 
The  ills  which  reason  cannot  cure, 

The  trespass  unforgiven, 
The  cold  neglect,  the  taunting  sneer ; 
Stingless  the  insult  meets  his  ear, 

Whose  eyes  are  fixed  on  heaven. 

Fixed  on  that  dear  availing  sign, 
Where  once  thy  suffering  Lord  and  mine 

Bowed  his  meek  head  and  died ; 
Vain  follower  of  thy  suffering  Lord, 
Think  of  his  life,  his  death  record, 

And  blush  that  e'er  you  sighed. 


ll 


162  HYMNS. 

CHASTISEMENT. 

"  As  many  as  I  love,  I  rebuke  and  chasten."  —  Rev.  iii.  19. 

Glory  to  the  righteous  God,  — 

Righteous,  yet  benign  to  me  ! 
Still,  in  his  paternal  rod, 

His  paternal  love  I  see  ; 
Let  him  tenderly  chastise, 

Let  him  graciously  reprove,  — 
Father,  all  within  me  cries, 

"  All  thy  ways  are  truth  and  love." 

Humbled  in  the  lowest  deep, 

Thee  I  for  my  sufferings  bless ; 
Think  of  all  thy  love,  and  weep 

For  my  own  unfaithfulness  : 
I  have  most  rebellious  been, 

Thou  hast  laid  thy  hand  on  me, 
Kindly  visited  my  sin, 

Scourged  the  wanderer  back  to  thee. 

Taught  obedience  to  my  God, 

By  the  things  I  have  endured, 
Meekly  now  I  kiss  the  rod, 

Wounded  by  that  rod  and  cured  ; 
Good  for  me  the  grief  and  pain, 

Let  me  but  thy  grace  adore, 
Keep  the  pardon  I  regain, 

Stand  in  awe,  and  sin  no  more. 


HYMNS.  163 

"GOD  IS  LOVE." 

1  John  iv.  8. 

'T  is  sweet  when  cloudless  suns  arise, 

As  through  the  vale  we  move  ; 
But,  O  !  more  sweet  to  recognize, 
Through  dreary  nights  and  starless  skies, 

The  smiling  face  of  Love ! 

I  hail  the  breeze  that,  soft  and  clear, 

Wafts  influence  from  above ; 
But  chief  the  storm  delighted  hear, 
While  breathes  o'er  faith's  attentive  ear 

The  whispering  voice  of  Love  ! 

When  health  invigorates  the  frame, 

Let  joy  the  bliss  improve  ; 
But  torturing  pain,  and  fever's  flame, 
With  teaching  power  alike  proclaim 

The  tender  hand  of  Love  ! 

Thou  canst  not  weep,  frail  child  of  clay, 

Such  blessings  taught  to  prove  ; 
Each  cloud  that  dims  thy  upward  way 
Shall  more  endear  the  glorious  day, 

That  gilds  the  land  of  Love  ! 

Bowring. 


164  HYMNS. 

"0,  BRING  ME  OUT  OF  MY  DISTRESSES!" 

Psalm  xxv.  17. 

Thou  man  of  griefs,  remember  me, 

Who  never  canst  thyself  forget, — 
Thy  last  mysterious  agony, 

Thy  fainting  pangs  and  bloody  sweat ; 
When,  wrestling  in  the  strength  of  prayer, 

Thy  spirit  sunk  beneath  its  load  ; 
Thy  feeble  flesh  abhorred  to  bear 

The  wrath  of  an  Almighty  God. 

Father !  if  I  may  call  thee  so, 

Regard  my  fearful  heart's  desire  ; 
Remove  this  load  of  guilty  woe, 

Nor  let  me  in  my  sins  expire  : 
I  tremble  lest  the  wrath  divine, 

Which  bruises  now  my  sinful  soul, 
Should  bruise  this  wretched  soul  of  mine 

Long  as  eternal  ages  roll. 

To  thee  my  last  distress  I  bring ; 

The  heightened  fear  of  death  I  find  ; 
The  tyrant,  brandishing  his  sting, 

Appears,  and  hell  is  close  behind ! 
I  deprecate  that  death  alone, 

That  endless  banishment  from  thee  ! 
O,  save,  and  give  me  to  thy  Son, 

Who  trembled,  wept,  and  bled  for  me  ! 

Wesley, 


HYMNS.  165 

GOD  APPOINTS. 

:  But  the  very  hairs  of  your  head  are  all  numbered."  —  Matt.  x.  30. 

Is  thy  path  lonely  ?  fear  it  not,  for  He 

Who  marks  the  sparrow's  fall  is  guarding  thee  ; 

And  not  a  star  shines  o'er  thy  head  by  night, 

But  He  doth  know  that  it  will  meet  thy  sight, 

And  not  a  joy  can  beautify  thy  lot, 

But  tells  thee  still  that  thou  art  unforgot. 

Nay,  not  a  grief  can  darken  or  surprise, 

Dwell  in  thy  heart,  or  dim  with  tears  thine  eyes, 

But  it  is  sent  in  mercy  and  in  love, 

To  bid  thy  helplessness  seek  strength  above. 


GLORY  TO   GOD. 

Thou  art  worthy,  0  Lord,  to  receive  glory."  —  Rev.  iv.  11. 

While  I  walk  life's  thorny  road, 
Path  of  pain,  by  Jesus  trod, 
Lead  me  from  temptation's  snare, 
Be  my  shield  where  perils  are ; 
And  my  thankful  song  shall  be, 
Gloria  tibi,  Domine ! 

When  the  weary  race  is  past, 
When  the  goal  is  reached  at  last ; 
When  sad  heart  and  aching  head 
In  the  grave  find  peaceful  bed ; 


166  HYMNS. 

When  the  ransomed  soul  shall  rise 
All  exultant  to  the  skies ; 
Still  my  joyful  song  shall  be, 

Gloria  tibi,  Domine  ! 


"A  LIVING  SACRIFICE." 

Rom.  xii.  1. 

Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost, 
One  in  three,  and  three  in  one, 

As  by  the  celestial  host, 

Let  thy  will  on  earth  be  done  : 

Praise  by  all  to  thee  be  given, 

Glorious  Lord  of  earth  and  heaven  ! 

Vilest  of  the  fallen  race, 
Lo !  I  answer  to  thy  call : 

Meanest  vessel  of  thy  grace,  — 
Grace  divinely  free  for  all, — 

Lo  !  I  come  to  do  thy  will, 

All  thy  counsel  to  fulfil. 

If  so  poor  a  worm  as  I 

May  to  thy  great  glory  live, 

All  my  actions  sanctify, 

All  my  words  and  thoughts  receive 

Claim  me  for  thy  service,  claim 

All  I  have  and  all  I  am. 


HYMNS.  16? 

Take  my  soul's  and  body's  powers, 
Take  my  memory,  mind,  and  will ; 

All  my  goods  and  all  my  hours, 
All  I  know,  and  all  I  feel ; 

All  I  think,  and  speak,  and  do : 

Take  my  heart,  —  but  make  it  new  ! 

Now,  O  God,  thine  own  I  am : 

Now  I  give  thee  back  thine  own,  — 

Freedom,  friends,  and  health,  and  fame, 
Consecrate  to  thee  alone  : 

Thine  I  live,  thrice  happy  I,  — 

Happier  still,  when  thine  I  die. 

C.  Wesley. 


BELIEVING  IN  HOPE. 

"  Who  against  hope  believed  in  hope."  —  Rom.  iv.  18. 

Who  is  the  weak  believer,  who 
Doth  still  his  weary  way  pursue  ; 
Inspired  with  true  religious  fear, 
And  following  Christ  with  heart  sincere  ? 
Obedient  to  thy  Saviour's  voice, 
Yet  canst  thou  not  in  him  rejoice, 
Nor  taste  the  comforts  of  his  grace, 
Nor  find  a  God  who  hides  his  face. 

Jesus  is  vanished  from  thy  sight,  — 
No  glimpse  of  bliss  or  gleam  of  light, 


168  HYMNS. 

To  cheer  thee  in  the  desert  way, 
Or  promise  a  return  of  day. 
No  evidence  of  things  unseen, 
But  wars  without  and  fears  within,  — 
No  witness  of  thy  sins  forgiven, 
No  ray  of  hope  on  this  side  heaven  ! 

Poor,  tempted  soul,  what  canst  thou  do  ? 
Hope  against  hope,  that  God  is  true  : 
His  nature  in  his  name  confess, 
His  wisdom,  power,  and  righteousness. 
The  Lord,  whom  now  thou  canst  not  see, 
Whate'er  he  is,  he  is  for  thee  : 
Expect,  and  thou  shalt  surely  prove, 
That  God  in  Christ  is  perfect  love. 

Wesley. 


"WATCH  YE." 
1  Cor.  xvi.  13. 

When  summer  decks  thy  path  with  flowers, 
And  Dleasure's  smile  is  sweetest ; 

When  not  a  cloud  above  thee  lowers, 

And  sunshine  leads  thy  happy  hours, 
Thy  happiest  and  thy  fleetest ; 

O,  watch  thou,  then,  lest  pleasure's  smile 

Thy  spirit  of  its  hope  beguile ! 

When  round  thee  gathering  storms  are  nigh, 
And  grief  thy  days  hath  shaded  ; 


HYMNS.  169 

When  earthly  joys  but  bloom  to  die, 
And  tears  suffuse  thy  weeping  eye, 

And  hope's  bright  bow  hath  faded  ; 
O,  watch  thou,  then,  lest  anxious  care 
Invade  thy  heart,  and  rankle  there  ! 

Through  all  life's  scenes,  through  weal  and  woe, 
Through  days  of  mirth  and  sadness ; 

Where'er  thy  wandering  footsteps  go,  — 

O,  think  how  transient  here  below 
Thy  sorrow  and  thy  gladness  ! 

And  watch  thou  always,  lest  thou  stray 

From  Him  who  points  the  heavenward  way. 


BETHESDA. 

John  v.  2  -  9. 

around  Bethesda's  healing  wave, 
Waiting  to  hear  the  rustling  wing 

Which  spoke  the  angel  nigh,  who  gave 
Its  virtues  to  that  holy  spring,  — 

With  earnest,  fixed  solitude, 

Were  seen  the  afflicted  multitude. 

Among  them  there  was  one,  whose  eye 
Had  often  seen  the  waters  stirred, 

Whose  heart  had  often  heaved  the  sigh, 
The  bitter  sigh  of  hope  deferred, 


170  HYMNS. 

Beholding,  while  he  suffered  on, 

The  healing  virtue  given,  —  and  gone. 

No  power  had  he  ;  no  friendly  aid 
To  him  its  timely  succor  brought ; 

But  while  his  coming  he  delayed, 
Another  won  the  boon  he  sought ;  — 

Until  the  Saviour's  love  was  shown, 

Which  healed  him  by  a  word  alone ! 

Had  they  who  watched  and  waited  there 
Been  conscious  who  was  passing  by, 

With  what  unceasing,  anxious  care 

Would  they  have  sought  his  pitying  eye  ; 

And  craved,  with  fervency  of  soul, 

His  sovereign  power  to  make  them  whole. 

But  habit  and  tradition  swayed 

Their  mind  to  trust  to  sense  alone ; 

They  only  sought  the  angel's  aid  ; 

While  in  their  presence  stood,  unknown, 

A  greater,  mightier  far,  than  he,  — 

With  power  from  grief  and  pain  to  free. 

Bethesda's  pool  has  lost  its  power  ; 

No  angel  by  his  glafl  descent 
Dispenses  that  diviner  dower, 

Which  with  its  healing  waters  went ; 
But  He,  whose  word  surpassed  its  wave, 
Is  still  omnipotent  to  save. 

Barton. 


HYMNS.  171 


MIZPAH. 

"  The  Lord  watch  between  me  and  thee,  when  we  are  absent  one  from  anoth- 
er." —  Gen.  xxxi.  49. 

When  friend  from  friend  is  parting, 

And  in  each  speaking  eye 
The  silent  tears  are  starting, 

To  tell  what  words  deny ; 
How  could  we  bear  the  heavy  load 

Of  such  heart-agony, 
Could  we  not  cast  it  all,  our  God, 

Our  gracious  God,  on  thee  ? 
And  feel  that  thou  kind  watch  will  keep 

When  we  are  far  away  ; 
That  thou  wilt  soothe  us  when  we  weep, 

And  hear  us  when  we  pray. 

Yet  oft  these  hearts  will  whisper, 

That  better  't  would  betide, 
If  we  were  near  the  friends  we  love, 

And  watching  by  their  side  ; 
But  sure  thou  'It  love  them  dearer,  Lord, 

For  trusting  thee  alone  ; 
And  sure  thou  wilt  draw  nearer,  Lord, 

The  further  we  are  gone. 
Then  why  be  sad  ?  since  thou  wilt  keep 

Watch  o'er  them  day  by  day  ; 
Since  thou  wilt  soothe  them  when  they  weep, 

And  hear  us  when  we  pray. 


172  H  Y  M  N  S  . 

O  for  that  bright  and  happy  land, 

Where,  far  amid  the  blest, 
"  The  wicked  cease  from  troubling,  and 

The  weary  are  at  rest." 
Where  friends  are  never  parted, 

Once  met  around  thy  throne  ; 
And  none  are  broken-hearted, 

Since  all,  with  thee,  are  one  ! 
Yet,  O,  till  then,  watch  o'er  us  keep, 

While  far  from  thee  away  ; 
And  soothe  us,  Lord,  oft  as  we  weep, 

And  hear  us  when  we  pray. 

Monsell. 


THE  BIBLE. 

'  The  law  of  thy  mouth  is  better  unto  me  than  thousands  of  gold  and 
1  —  Ps.  cxix.  72. 
t 

Precious  Bible  !  what  a  treasure 

Does  the  word  of  God  afford ! 
All  I  want  for  life  or  pleasure, 

Food  and  medicine,  shield  and  sword  : 
Let  the  world  account  me  poor, 
Having  this  I  need  no  more. 

Food,  to  which  the  world  's  a  stranger, 

Here  my  hungry  soul  enjoys  ; 
Of  excess  there  is  no  danger, 

Though  it  fills,  it  never  cloys  : 


HYMNS.  173 


On  a  dying  Christ  I  feed, 
He  is  meat  and  drink  indeed. 

When  my  faith  is  faint  and  sickly, 
Or  when  Satan  wounds  my  mind, 

Cordials  to  revive  me  quickly, 
Healing  medicines,  here  I  find  : 

To  the  promises  I  flee, 

Each  affords  a  remedy. 

In  the  hour  of  dark  temptation, 
Satan  cannot  make  me  yield, 

For  the  word  of  consolation 
Is  to  me  a  mighty  shield : 

While  the  Scripture  truths  are  sure, 


Shall  I  envy,  then,  the  miser, 

Doating  on  his  golden  store  ? 
Sure  I  am,  or  should  be,  wiser ; 

I  am  rich,  't  is  he  is  poor : 
Jesus  gives  me  in  his  word 
Food  and  medicine,  shield  and  sword. 

Newton. 


174  HYMNS. 

HOME. 

"  Then  the  disciples  went  away  unto  their  own  home."  — John  xx.  10. 

Where  burns  the  fireside  brightest, 

Cheering  the  social  breast  ? 
Where  beats  the  fond  heart  lightest, 

Its  humble  hopes  possessed  ? 
Where  is  the  hour  of  sadness 

With  meek-eyed  patience  borne  ? 
Worth  more  than  those  of  gladness, 

Which  mirth's  gay  cheeks  adorn  ! 
Pleasure  is  marked  by  fleetness, 

To  those  who  ever  roam  ; 
While  grief  itself  has  sweetness, 

At  home,  —  sweet  home  ! 

There  blend  the  ties  that  strengthen 

Our  hearts  in  hours  of  grief,  — 
The  silver  links  that  lengthen 

Joy's  visits,  when  most  brief : 
There,  eyes,  in  all  their  splendor, 

Are  vocal  to  the  heart ; 
And  glances,  bright  and  tender, 

Fresh  eloquence  impart : 
Then,  dost  thou  sigh  for  pleasure  ? 

O,  do  not  widely  roam  ; 
But  seek  that  hidden  treasure 

At  home,  —  sweet  home ! 


HYMNS.  175 

Does  pure  religion  charm  thee 

Far  more  than  aught  below  ? 
Wouldst  thou  that  she  should  arm  thee 

Against  the  hour  of  woe  ? 
Her  dwelling  is  not  only 

In  temples  built  for  prayer  ; 
For  home  itself  is  lonely, 

Unless  her  smiles  be  there  ; 
Wherever  we  may  wander, 

'T  is  all  in  vain  we  roam, 
If  worshipless  her  altar 

At  home,  —  sweet  home  ! 

Barton. 


HOUSEHOLD  HARMONY. 


"  Behold,  how  good  and  how  pleasant  it  is  for  brethren  to  dwell  together  in 
unity  !  "  —  Ps.  cxxxiii.  1. 


O,  sweet  as  vernal  dews,  that  fill 
The  closing  buds  on  Zion's  hill, 

When  evening  clouds  draw  thither, 
So  sweet,  so  heavenly,  't  is  to  see 
The  members  of  one  family 

Live  peacefully  together ! 

The  children,  like  the  lily  flowers, 
On  which  descend  the  sun  and  showers, 
Their  hues  of  beauty  blending,  — 


176  HYMNS. 

The  parents,  like  the  willow  boughs, 
On  which  the  lovely  foliage  grows, 
Their  friendly  shade  extending. 

But  leaves  the  greenest  will  decay, 
And  flowers  the  brightest  fade  away, 

When  autumn  winds  are  sweeping ; 
And  be  the  household  e'er  so  fair, 
The  hand  of  death  will  soon  be  there, 
And  turn  the  scene  to  weeping ! 

Yet  leaves  again  will  clothe  the  trees, 
And  lilies  wave  beneath  the  breeze, 

When  spring  comes  smiling  hither ; 
And  friends,  who  parted  at  the  tomb, 
May  yet  renew  their  loveliest  bloom, 

And  meet  in  heaven  together ! 


Knox. 


THE  NAME  OF  JESUS. 


"  And  thou  shalt  call  his  name  Jesus  ;  for  he  shall  save  his  people  from  their 
6ins."  —  Matt.  i.  21. 


How  sweet  the  name  of  Jesus  sounds 

In  a  believer's  ear ! 
It  soothes  his  sorrows,  heals  his  wounds, 

And  drives  away  his  fear. 


HYMNS.  177 

It  makes  the  wounded  spirit  whole, 

And  calms  the  troubled  breast ; 
'T  is  manna  to  the  hungry  soul, 

And  to  the  weary,  rest. 

Dear  name  !  the  rock  on  which  I  build, 

My  shield  and  hiding-place, 
My  never-failing  treasury,  filled 

With  boundless  stores  of  grace  ! 

By  thee  my  prayers  acceptance  gain, 

Although  with  sin  denied, 
Satan  accuses  me  in  vain, 

And  I  am  owned  a  child. 

Jesus !  my  Shepherd,  Husband,  Friend, 

My  Prophet,  Priest,  and  King, 
My  Lord,  my  Life,  my  Way,  my  End  ! 

Accept  the  praise  I  bring. 

Weak  is  the  effort  of  my  heart, 

And  cold  my  warmest  thought ; 
But  when  I  see  thee  as  thou  art, 

I  '11  praise  thee  as  I  ought. 

Till  then  I  would  thy  love  proclaim, 

With  every  fleeting  breath  ; 
And  may  the  music  of  thy  name 

Refresh  my  soul  in  death. 

Newton. 

12 


178  HYMNS. 

THE  COURTS   OF  THE  LORD. 

Psalm  lxxxiv. 

Pleasant  are  thy  courts  above, 
In  the  land  of  light  and  love  ; 
Pleasant  are  thy  courts  below, 
In  this  land  of  sin  and  woe. 
O,  my  spirit  longs  and  faints 
For  the  converse  of  thy  saints ; 
For  the  brightness  of  thy  face, 
King  of  Glory,  God  of  grace  ! 

Happy  birds,  that  sing  and  fly 
Round  thy  altars,  O  Most  High  ! 
Happier  souls,  that  find  a  rest 
In  a  Heavenly  Father's  breast ! 
Like  the  wandering  dove,  that  found 
No  repose  on  earth  around, 
They  can  to  their  ark  repair, 
And  enjoy  it  ever  there. 

Happy  souls  !  their  praises  flow 

Even  in  this  vale  of  woe, 

Waters  in  the  desert  rise, 

Manna  feeds  them  from  the  skies  ; 

On  they  go  from  strength  to  strength, 

Till  they  reach  thy  throne  at  length, 

At  thy  feet  adoring  fall, 

Who  hast  led  them  safe  through  all. 


HYMNS.  179 

Lord,  be  mine  this  prize  to  win, 
Guide  me  through  a  world  of  sin ; 
Keep  me  by  thy  saving  grace, 
Give  me  at  thy  side  a  place. 
Sun  and  shield  alike  thou  art, 
Guide  and  guard  my  erring  heart ; 
Grace  and  glory  flow  from  thee, 
Shower,  O,  shower  them,  Lord,  on  me  ! 

Lyte. 


SICKNESS   ON  THE   SABBATH. 

When  shall  I  come  and  appear  before  God  ?  "  —  Ps.  xlii.  2. 

I  hear  the  bells,  I  see  them  go, 

I  may  not  join  the  throng 
Of  faithful  Christians  here  below, 

Nor  hear  the  grateful  song, 
Which  in  those  sacred  walls  they  raise 
Unto  our  blessed  Redeemer's  praise. 

Dare  I  repine,  or  think  it  hard, 

By  sickness  and  by  pain, 
That  I  should  be  so  long  debarred 

Treading  those  courts  again  ? 
O,  no !  it  is  my  Father's  will ; 
'T  is  his  command  ;  my  heart,  be  still ! 

For  well  I  know  his  love  is  raised 
Beyond  what  we  can  feel ; 


180  HYMNS. 

His  word  is  sure,  his  truth  engaged 

The  weak  to  raise  and  heal. 
I  know  that  his  almighty  power 
Surrounds  and  guards  me  every  hour. 

In  weakness,  Lord,  be  thou  my  strength  ; 

And  when  it  is  thy  will 
In  health  to  raise  me  up  at  length, 

Make  me  to  praise  thee  still ; 
And  feel,  that  thy  afflicting  rod 
Has  drawn  me  nearer  to  my  God. 

And  when  life's  weary  path  is  trod, 

Its  fleeting  shadows  past ; 
May  I  repose  on  thee,  my  God, 

In  perfect  peace,  at  last ! 
Then  shall  I  know,  then  shall  I  see, 
That  all  has  worked  for  good  to  me. 


THE  FOUNTAIN  OPENED. 


"  In  that  day  there  shall  be  a  fountain  opened  to  the  house  of  David,  and  to 
the  inhabitants  of  Jerusalem,  for  sin  and  for  uncleanness."  —  Zech.  xiii.  1. 


There  is  a  fountain  filled  with  blood, 
Drawn  from  Immanuel's  veins, 

And  sinners,  plunged  beneath  that  flood, 
Lose  all  their  guilty  stains. 


HYMNS.  181 

The  dying  thief  rejoiced  to  see 

That  fountain  in  his  day  ; 
And  there  have  I,  as  vile  as  he, 

Washed  all  my  sins  away. 

Dear,  dying  Lamb  !  thy  precious  blood 

Shall  never  lose  its  power, 
Till  all  the  ransomed  Church  of  God 

Be  saved,  to  sin  no  more. 

E'er  since,  by  faith,  I  saw  the  stream 

Thy  flowing  wounds  supply, 
Redeeming  love  has  been  my  theme, 

And  shall  be  till  I  die. 

Then,  in  a  nobler,  sweeter  song, 

I  '11  sing  thy  power  to  save ; 
When  this  poor,  lisping,  stammering  tongue 

Lies  silent  in  the  grave. 

Lord,  I  believe  thou  hast  prepared 

(Unworthy  though  I  be) 
For  me  a  blood -bought,  free  reward, 

A  golden  harp  for  me. 

'T  is  strung  and  tuned  for  endless  years, 

And  formed  by  power  divine, 
To  sound  in  God  the  Father's  ears 

No  other  name  but  thine. 

CoWPEFt. 


182  HYMNS 


DETAINED  FROM  THE  SANCTUARY. 


(;  For  I  had  gone  with  the  multitude ;  I  went  with  them  to  the  house  of  God, 
with  the  voice  of  joy  and  praise,  with  a  multitude  that  kept  holy  day."  —  Ps 
xliL  4. 


Sweet  Sabbath  bells  !  I  love  your  voice,  — 
You  call  me  to  the  house  of  prayer ; 

Oft  have  you  made  my  heart  rejoice, 
When  I  have  gone  to  worship  there. 

But  now,  a  prisoner  of  the  Lord, 

His  hand  forbids,  I  cannot  go  ; 
Yet  may  I  here  his  love  record, 

And  here  the  sweets  of  worship  know. 

Each  place  alike  is  holy  ground, 

Where  prayer  from  humble  souls  is  poured 
Where  praise  awakes  its  silver  sound, 

Or  God  is  silently  adored. 

His  sanctuary  is  the  heart,  — 

There,  with  the  contrite,  will  he  rest ; 

Lord,  come,  a  Sabbath  frame  impart, 
And  make  thy  temple  in  my  breast. 


HYMNS.  183 

SLEEP. 

"  So  he  giveth  his  beloved  sleep."  —  Ps.  cxxvii.  2. 

Of  all  the  thoughts  of  God,  that  are 
Borne  inward  unto  souls  afar, 

Along  the  Psalmist's  music  deep,  — 
Now  tell  me  if  that  any  is 
For  gift  or  grace  surpassing  this,  — 
"  He  giveth  his  beloved  sleep  "  ? 

What  would  we  give  to  our  beloved  ? 
The  hero's  heart,  to  be  unmoved,  — 
The  poet's  star-tuned  harp,  to  sweep,  — 
The  senate's  shout  for  patriot  vows,  — 
The  monarch's  crown  to  light  the  brows  ? 
"  He  giveth  his  beloved  sleep." 

What  do  we  give  to  our  beloved  ? 
A  little  faith,  all  undisproved,  — 
A  little  dust,  to  overweep,  — 
And  bitter  memories,  to  make 
The  whole  earth  blasted  for  our  sake ! 
"  He  giveth  his  beloved  sleep. " 

'  Sleep  soft,  beloved  !  "  we  sometimes  say ; 
But  have  no  tune  to  charm  away 

Sad  dreams,  that  through  the  eyelids  creep  ; 
But  never  doleful  dream  again 
Shall  break  the  happy  slumber,  when 
"  He  giveth  his  beloved  sleep." 


184  HYMNS. 

O  earth,  so  full  of  dreamy  noises  ! 
O  men,  with  wailing  in  your  voices ! 
O  delved  gold,  the  waiter's  heap  ! 

0  strife,  O  curse,  that  o'er  it  fall*! 
God  makes  a  silence  through  you  all, 

And  "  giveth  his  beloved  sleep." 

His  dews  drop  mutely  on  the  hill,  — 
His  cloud  above  it  saileth  still,  — 

Though  on  its  slope  men  toil  and  reap ; 
More  softly  than  the  dew  is  shed, 
Or  cloud  is  floated  overhead, 
"  He  giveth  his  beloved  sleep." 

Yea !  men  may  wonder,  while  they  scan 
A  living,  thinking,  feeling  man, 
In  such  a  rest  his  heart  to  keep  ; 

But  angels  say,  —  and  through  the  word, 

1  ween,  their  blessed  smile  is  heard,  — 
"  He  giveth  his  beloved  sleep." 

For  me,  my  heart,  that  erst  did  go 
Most  like  a  tired  child  at  a  show, 

That  sees,  through  tears,  the  juggler's  leap, 
Would  now  its  wearied  vision  close, 
And  childlike  on  His  love  repose, 
Who  "  giveth  his  beloved  sleep." 

And  friends,  dear  friends  !  when  it  shall  be 
That  this  low  breath  is  gone  from  me,  — 


HYMNS.  185 

When  round  my  bier  ye  come  to  weep, — 
Let  one,  most  loving  of  you  all, 
Say,  —  "  Not  a  tear  must  o'er  her  fall,  — 

He  giveth  his  beloved  sleep." 

Elizabeth  Barrett  Browning. 


"IF  CHRIST  IS  MINE." 

Cant.  ii.  16. 

"  If  Christ  is  mine,"  then  all  is  mine, 
And  more  than  angels  know  ; 

Both  present  things,  and  things  to  come, 
And  grace  and  glory,  too. 

"  If  he  is  mine,"  then,  though  he  frown, 

He  never  will  forsake  ; 
His  chastisements  all  work  for  good, 

And  but  his  love  bespeak. 

"  If  he  is  mine,"  I  need  not  fear 
The  rage  of  earth  and  hell ; 

He  will  support  my  feeble  frame, 
And  all  their  power  repel. 

"  If  he  is  mine,"  let  friends  forsake, 

And  earthly  comforts  flee  ; 
He,  the  dispenser  of  all  good, 

Is  more  than  these  to  me. 


186  HYMNS. 

"  If  he  is  mine,"  I  '11  fearless  pass 
Through  death's  tremendous  vale  ; 

He  '11  be  my  comfort  and  my  stay, 
When  heart  and  flesh  shall  fail. 

Let  Christ  assure  me  "  he  is  mine," 

I  nothing  want  beside  ; 
My  soul  shall  at  the  fountain  live, 

When  all  the  streams  are  dried. 


Beddome. 


EVENING  LITANY. 

"  Let  my  prayer  be  set  forth  before  thee  as  incense ;  and  the  lifting  up  of  my 
hands  as  the  evening  sacrifice."  —  Ps.  cxli.  2. 

Father  !  by  thy  love  and  power, 
Comes  again  the  evening  hour  ; 
Light  has  vanished,  labors  cease, 
Weary  creatures  rest  in  peace. 
Thou,  whose  genial  dews  distil 

On  the  lowliest  weed  that  grows, 
Father  !  guard  our  couch  from  ill, 

Lull  thy  children  to  repose  ; 
We  to  thee  ourselves  resign, 
Let  our  latest  thoughts  be  thine. 

Saviour !  to  thy  Father  bear 
This,  our  feeble  evening  prayer ; 


HYMNS.  187 

Thou  hast  seen  how  oft,  to-day, 
We,  like  sheep,  have  gone  astray ; 
Worldly  thoughts,  and  thoughts  of  pride, 

Wishes  to  thy  cross  untrue  ; 
Secret  faults,  and  undescribed, 

Meet  thy  spirit-piercing  view  ; 
Blessed  Saviour !  yet,  through  thee, 
Pray  that  these  may  pardoned  be. 

Holy  Spirit !  breath  of  balm  ! 
Fall  on  us  in  evening's  calm  ; 
Yet  awhile,  before  we  sleep, 
We  with  thee  will  vigils  keep : 
Lead  us  on  our  sins  to  muse, 

Give  us  truest  penitence  ; 
Then  the  love  of  God  infuse, 

Breathing  humble  confidence ; 
Melt  our  spirits,  mould  our  will,  — 
Soften,  strengthen,  comfort  still. 

Blessed  Trinity  !  be  near, 
Through  the  hours  of  darkness  drear ; 
When  the  help  of  man  is  far, 
Ye  more  clearly  present  are  ;  — 
Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost, 

Watch  o'er  our  defenceless  head  ; 
Let  your  angels,  guardian  host, 

Keep  all  evil  from  our  bed, 
Till  the  flood  of  morning  rays 
Wake  us  to  a  song  of  praise. 


188  HYMNS. 


EVENING  HYMN. 


•;  Man  goeth  forth  unto  his  work  and  to  his  labor  until  the  evening. 
Fs.  civ.  23. 


The  gaudy  day  is  dying ! 
The  hours  of  evening,  flying, 

Chase  household  cares  away  ; 
Awhile  soft  twilight  lingers, 
Till  night  with  dewy  fingers 

Shall  close  the  weary  eye  of  day. 

O,  let  us,  ere  we  slumber, 
Heaven's  bounties  try  to  number, 

Too  great  for  tongue  to  tell ; 
Our  grateful  hearts  confessing, 
With  each  recounted  blessing, 

That  God  has  ordered  all  things  well. 

No  fears  disturb  us  sleeping, 
Our  souls  are  in  thy  keeping, 

Our  hearts  repose  on  thee  ; 
For  thou  wilt  ne'er  forsake  us, 
Whether  the  dawn  awake  us 

Here,  or  in  blest  eternity. 

Lord !  't  is  thy  hand  that  guides  us, 
And  with  all  good  provides  us, 
In  this  our  pilgrimage, 


HYMNS.  189 

O,  be  our  praise  unceasing, 
Our  love  each  day  increasing 

To  life's  remote  and  latest  stage ! 

Rinck 


EVENING  TIME. 

It  shall  come  to  pass,  that  at  evening  there  shall  be  light."  —  Zech.  siv.  7. 

At  evening  time,  let  there  be  light ; 

Life's  little  day  draws  near  its  close  ; 
Around  me  fall  the  shades  of  night, 

The  night  of  death,  the  grave's  repose  ; 

To  crown  my  joys,  to  end  my  woes, 
At  evening  time,  let  there  be  light. 

At  evening  time,  let  there  be  light ; 

Stormy  and  dark  hath  been  my  day ; 
Yet  rose  the  morn  divinely  bright,  — 

Dews,  birds,  and  blossoms  cheered  the  way ; 

O  for  one  sweet,  one  parting  ray  !  — 
At  evening  time,  let  there  be  light. 

At  evening  time,  there  shall  be  light, 
For  God  hath  spoken,  —  it  must  be  ; 

Fear,  doubt,  and  anguish  take  their  flight, 
His  glory  now  is  risen  on  me ; 
Mine  eyes  shall  his  salvation  see  ; 

'T  is  evening  time,  —  and  there  is  light. 

Montgomery. 


190 
I 


HYMNS. 

THE  HEAD   SICK,  THE  HEART  FAINT. 

Isaiah  i.  5. 

Before  thy  footstool  kneeling, 

To  thee,  O  Lord,  we  cry ; 
While  for  thy  gift  of  healing 

We  raise  our  voice  on  high  ; 
Diseases  and  afflictions 

Thy  ready  servants  are  , 
Chastisements  and  corrections, 

To  quicken  us  in  prayer. 

We  own  our  guilt  and  folly, 

But  thou  canst  still  forgive  ; 
And  thou,  most  high  and  holy, 

Canst  bid  the  sick  revive  : 
Though  now  cast  down  in  sorrow, 

In  darkness  and  distress, 
Joy  may  return  to-morrow, 

Through  thy  restoring  grace. 

As  suppliants  now  before  thee, 

In  thy  great  name  we  plead  ; 
Physician,  we  adore  thee, 

And,  trembling,  ask  thine  aid. 
Before  thy  footstool  kneeling, 

To  thee,  to  thee,  we  cry  ; 
Send  down  thy  gift  of  healing,  — 

On  thee  our  souls  rely. 


HYMNS.  191 


MIDNIGHT  HYMN. 

"  At  midnight  I  will  rise  to  give  thanks  unto  thee,  because  of  thy  righteous 
judgments."  —  Ps.  cxix.  62. 

In  the  mid  silence  of  the  voiceless  night, 
When,  chased  by  airy  dreams,  the  slumbers  flee ; 
Whom,  in  the  darkness,  doth  my  spirit  seek, 
0  God,  but  thee  ? 

And,  if  there  be  a  weight  upon  my  breast, 
Some  vague  impression  of  the  day  foregone, 
Scarce  knowing  what  it  is,  I  fly  to  thee, 
And  lay  it  down. 

Or,  if  it  be  the  heaviness  that  comes 
In  token  of  anticipated  ill, 
My  bosom  takes  no  heed  of  what  it  is, 
Since  't  is  thy  will. 

For,  O,  in  spite  of  past  or  present  care, 
Or  any  thing  beside,  —  how  joyfully 
Passes  that  silent,  solitary  hour, 
My  God,  with  thee  ! 

More  tranquil  than  the  stillness  of  the  night, 
More  peaceful  than  the  silence  of  that  hour, 
More  blest  than  any  thing,  my  bosom  lies 
Beneath  thy  power. 


192  HYMNS. 

For,  what  is  there  on  earth,  that  I  desire, 
,  Of  all  that  it  can  give,  or  take  from  me  ? 
Or  whom,  in  heaven,  doth  my  spirit  seek, 
O  God,  but  thee  ? 


NIGHT. 

M  The  morning  cometh,  and  also  the  night.  "  — Isa.  xxi.  12. 

Night  is  the  time  to  muse  ; 

Then,  from  the  eye,  the  soul 
Takes  flight ;  and,  with  expanded  views, 

Beyond  the  starry  pole, 
Descries,  athwart  the  abyss  of  night, 
The  dawn  of  uncreated  light. 

Night  is  the  time  to  pray ; 

Our  Saviour  oft  withdrew 
To  desert  mountains  far  away ; 

So  will  his  followers  do, 
Steal  from  the  throng  to  haunts  untrod, 
And  hold  communion  there  with  God. 

Night  is  the  time  for  death  ; 

When  all  around  is  peace, 
Calmly  to  yield  the  weaiy  breath, 

From  sin  and  suffering  cease  ; 
Think  of  heaven's  bliss,  and  give  the  sign 
To  parting  friends,  —  such  death  be  mine. 

Montgomery. 


HYMNS.  193 

■ 

MORNING. 

The  morning  comcth,  and  also  the  night."  —  Isa.  xxi.  12. 

Morn  is  the  time  to  think, 

While  thoughts  are  fresh  and  free, 

Of  life,  just  balanced  on  the  brink 
Of  dark  eternity  : 

And  ask  our  souls,  if  they  are  meet 

To  stand  before  the  judgment-seat. 

Morn  is  the  time  to  die, — 

Just  at  the  dawn  of  day, 
When  stars  are  fading  in  the  sky, 

To  fade,  like  them,  away ; 
But  lost  in  light  more  brilliant  far, 
Than  ever  merged  the  morning  star. 

Morn  is  the  time  to  rise, 

The  resurrection  morn, 
Upspringing  to  the  glorious  skies, 

On  new-found  pinions  borne, 
To  meet  a  Saviour's  smile  divine, — 
Be  such  ecstatic  rising  mine. 

f.  L.  Gray. 


13 


194  HYMNS. 

AUTUMNAL  HYMN. 

"  And  we  all  do  fade  as  a  leaf."  — ha.  lxiv.  6. 

The  leaves  around  me  falling, 

Are  preaching  of  decay ; 
The  hollow  winds  are  calling, 

"  Come,  pilgrim,  come  away ! " 
The  day,  in  night  declining, 

Says,  I  must,  too,  decline  ; 
The  year,  its  life  resigning,  — 

Its  lot  foreshadows  mine. 

The  light  my  path  surrounding, 

The  loves,  to  which  I  cling, 
The  hopes  within  me  bounding, 

The  joys,  that  round  me  wing, — 
All  melt,  like  stars  of  even, 

Before  the  morning's  ray,  — 
Pass  upward  into  heaven, 

And  chide  at  my  delay. 

The  friends,  gone  there  before  me. 

Are  calling  from  on  high  ; 
And  joyous  angels  o'er  me, 

Tempt  sweetly  to  the  sky. 
"  Why  wait,  they  say,  "  and  wither, 

'Mid  scenes  of  death  and  sin  ? 
0,  rise  to  glory,  hither, 

And  find  true  life  begin  !  " 


HYMNS.  195 

I  hear  the  invitation, 

And  fain  would  rise  and  come,  — 
A  sinner  to  salvation  ; 

An  exile  to  his  home  : 
But,  while  I  here  must  linger, 

Thus,  thus  let  all  I  see 
Point  on,  with  faithful  finger, 

To  heaven,  O  Lord,  and  thee. 

Lyte. 


BIRTH  OF  A   CHILD. 

"  Yet  man  is  born  unto  trouble,  as  tbe  sparks  fly  upward."  —  Job.  v.  7. 

Gentle  stranger !  fearless  come 
To  our  quiet,  happy  home  ;  — 
Bud  of  being,  beauty's  flower, 
Sprung  to  birth  this  smiling  hour,  — 
While  upon  thy  form  we  gaze, 
Grateful  thoughts  to  heaven  we  raise. 

Nothing,  yet,  thine  eyes  can  see, 
Of  the  world's  dread  mystery  ; 
Of  the  tumult  and  the  strife, 
That  embitter  human  life  ;  — 
But  thy  Maker's  eye  can  view 
Present  scenes,  and  future,  too. 

Little  can  thy  bosom  know 

Of  the  pangs  and  griefs,  that  flow 


196  HYMNS. 

From  a  heart  impure  within,  — 
From  a  world  denied  by  sin  ; 
Yet,  if  trembling  life  is  spared, 
Heaven,  in  mercy,  be  thy  guard. 

Saviour !  from  thy  heavenly  throne, 
Smile  upon  this  little  one ; 
Let  thy  spirit  be  its  guide, — 
Let  its  wants  be  well  supplied ; 
Cleanse  it  by  thy  precious  blood,  — 
Fit  it  for  thy  high  abode. 

Wilks. 


A  FATHER'S  PRAYER. 

"  Come  down,  ere  my  child  die."  —  John  iv.  49. 

Jesus,  great  healer  of  mankind, 
Who  dost  our  sorrows  bear  ; 

Let  an  afflicted  parent  find 
An  answer  to  his  prayer. 

I  look  for  help  in  thee  alone, 

To  thee  for  succor  fly  ; 
My  son  is  sick,  my  darling  son, 

And  at  the  point  to  die. 

By  deep  distress  a  suppliant  made, 

By  agony  of  grief, 
Most  justly  might  thy  love  upbraid 

My  lingering  unbelief. 


HYMNS.  197 

Surely,  if  thou  pronounce  the  word, 

If  thou  the  answer  give, 
My  dying  son  shall  be  restored, 

And  to  thy  glory  live. 

O,  save  the  father,  in  the  son  ! 

Restore  him,  Lord,  to  me ; 
My  heart  the  miracle  shall  own, 

And  give  him  back  to  thee. 

C.  Wesley. 


THE  DYING  SON. 

"  And  the  king  was  much  moved,  and  went  up  to  the  chamber  over  the  gate, 
and  wept  "  —  2  Sam.  xviii.  33. 

And  must  thou  die,  my  darling  boy  ? 

I  see  the  fatal  shade, 
That  o'er  thy  blooming  cheek  of  joy 

The  hand  of  death  has  laid : 
And  soon  the  appointed  hour  must  come, 
To  bear  thy  ransomed  spirit  home. 

I  loved  to  gaze  upon  thy  face, 

And  mark  thine  open  brow, 
Where  care  as  yet  had  stamped  no  trace, 

To  picture  human  woe  : 
There  all  was  peaceful,  all  was  fair, 
Like  the  sweet  smile  that  rested  there. 


198  HYMNS. 

Must  I  no  more  behold  that  smile, 

Nor  feel  thy  hand  entwine, 
In  fond,  endearing  love,  awhile, 

Its  gentle  clasp  in  mine  ? 
Or  see  thine  ardent  spirit  glow 
With  joys,  that  only  youth  can  know  ? 

But  these  are  selfish  thoughts,  that  wrong 

A  Christian  parent's  love  ; 
Vain  thoughts,  that  suit  the  worldly  throng, 

Who  never  look  above 
Earth's  bounded  scene,  earth's  narrow  sphere, 

But  centre  all  their  treasures  here. 

Let  me  not  mourn,  that  thou  wilt  be 

A  tenant  of  the  sky,  — 
Escaped  from  life's  tumultuous  sea, 

And  frail  mortality : 
When  storms  arise,  and  tempests  blow, 
No  adverse  gale  thy  bark  shall  know. 

Let  me  rejoice,  to  think  that  thou 

Hast  early  joined  the  blest ; 
Before  thy  youthful  heart  could  know 

Aught  to  disturb  its  rest,  — 
Before  earth's  chilling  storms  had  given 
A  blight  to  fruit  prepared  for  heaven. 


HYMNS.  199 

BY  THE  BEDSIDE  OF  A  SICK  CHILD. 

"  David,  therefore,  besought  God  for  the  child."  — 2  Sam.  xii.  16 

Now  all  is  done,  that  love,  and  care, 
And  skilful  kindness  could  suggest ; 

And  He,  who  heard  our  anxious  prayer, 
Will  answer  as  his  love  thinks  best : 

O  that  both  hopes  and  fears  were  still, 

Waiting  on  his  mysterious  will  ! 

And  yet,  both  hopes  and  fears  will  crowd 
Around  that  bright  and  precious  child  ; 

And  both  will  speak  their  thoughts  aloud, 
Till  this  distracted  heart  is  wild  : 

0  might  they  all  give  place  to  one 
Heart-filling  prayer,  —  "  God's  will  be  done  !  " 

Sometimes  a  dream  of  what  may  be, 

Comes,  like  soft  sunshine,  o'er  the  heart ; 

1  hear  his  prattle  at  my  knee, 

Feel  his  warm  cheek  near  mine,  and  start 
To  find  it —  ah !  so  cold  and  pale, 
That  hope  (and  wellnigh  faith)  doth  fail. 

And  then,  again,  the  dream  returns,  — 
Childhood  and  youth  are  safely  o'er ; 

His  eye  with  manhood's  ardor  burns, 
Fears  hover  round  his  path  no  more : 

Hopes,  with  their  buds  and  blossoms,  all 

Burst,  where  his  bounding  footsteps  fall. 


200  HYMNS. 

He  seems  to  speak,  —  with  anxious  ear 
My  very  heart  waits  breathless  by  ; 

His  lips  are  parted,  —  and  I  hear, 

My  precious  babe,  thy  restless  cry  ;  — 

E'en  hope,  affrighted,  flees  away, 

As  if  it  had  no  heart  to  stay. 

Come,  then,  my  God,  and  take  the  place 
Of  these  distracting  hopes  and  fears  ; 

'Stablish  this  trembling  heart  with  grace, 
Dry  with  thine  hand  these  falling  tears  ; 

And  teach  me  to  confide  in  thee 

The  treasure  thou  couldst  trust  with  me. 

Happy  if,  rescued  from  the  strait 
Of  being  called  on  to  decide, 

Here  with  submissive  soul  I  wait, 
By  thy  decision  to  abide,  — 

Life,  with  its  blessings  and  its  pain, 

Or  death,  with  its  "  to  die  is  gain." 


Monsell. 


FOR  MY  MOTHER. 

"  Despise  not  thy  mother  when  she  is  old."  —  Prov.  xxiii.  22. 

O,  how  soft  that  bed  must  be, 
Made  in  sickness,  Lord,  by  thee  ! 

And  that  rest,  how  calm,  how  sweet, 
Where  Jesus  and  the  sufferer  meet ! 


HYMNS.  201 

It  was  the  good  Physician  now 

Soothed  thy  cheek  and  chafed  thy  brow ; 
Whispering,  as  he  raised  thy  head, — 

"  It  is  I,  be  not  afraid." 

God  of  glory,  God  of  grace, 

Hear  from  heaven,  thy  dwelling-place  ; 
Hear,  in  mercy,  and  forgive, 

Bid  thy  child  believe,  and  live. 

Bless  her,  and  she  shall  be  blest, 
Soothe  her,  and  she  shall  have  rest ; 

Fix  her  heart,  her  hopes,  above, 
Love  her,  Lord,  for  thou  art  love. 


THE  AGED. 


"  Now,  also,  when  I  am  old  and  gray-headed,  0  God,  forsake  me  not ;  until 
I  have  showed  thy  strength  unto  this  generation,  and  thy  power  to  every  one 
that  is  to  come."  —  Ps.  lxxi.  18. 


With  years  oppressed,  with  sorrows  worn, 
Dejected,  harassed,  sick,  forlorn, 

To  thee,  O  God,  I  pray  ; 
To  thee  my  withered  hands  arise, 
To  thee  I  lift  these  failing  eyes, 

O,  cast  me  not  away  ! 


202  HYMNS. 

Thy  mercy  heard  my  infant  prayer, 
Thy  love,  with  all  a  mother's  care, 

Sustained  my  childish  days, 
Thy  goodness  watched  my  ripening  youth, 
And  formed  my  heart  to  love  thy  truth, 

And  filled  my  lips  with  praise. 

O  Saviour !  has  thy  grace  declined  ? 
Can  years  affect  the  Eternal  mind  ? 

Or  time  its  lone  decay  ? 
A  thousand  ages  pass  thy  sight, 
And  all  their  long  and  weary  flight 

Is  gone  like  yesterday. 

Then,  even  in  age  and  grief,  thy  name 
Shall  still  my  languid  heart  inflame, 

And  bow  my  faltering  knee. 
O,  yet  this  bosom  feels  the  fire, 
This  trembling  hand  and  drooping  lyre 

Have  yet  a  strain  for  thee. 

Yes,  broken,  tuneless,  still,  O  Lord, 
This  voice  transported  shall  record 

Thy  goodness  tried  so  long  : 
Till  sinking  slow,  with  calm  decay, 
Its  feeble  murmurs  melt  away 

Into  a  seraph's  song. 

Grant. 


HYMNS.  203 


THE  DYING  FATHER. 


':  Leave  thy  fatherless  children,  I  •will  preserve  them  alive ;  and  let  thy  wid- 
ows trust  in  me."  —  Jer.  xlix.  11. 


O  thou  faithful  God  of  love  ! 

Gladly  I  thy  promise  plead ; 
Waiting  for  my  last  remove, 

Hastening  to  the  happy  dead : 
Lo,  I  cast  on  thee  my  care, 
Breathe  my  latest  breath  in  prayer ! 

Trusting  in  thy  word  alone, 
I  to  thee  my  children  leave  ; 

Call  my  little  ones  thine  own, 
To  them  all  thy  blessings  give : 

Keep  them  while  on  earth  they  breathe, 

Save  their  souls  from  endless  death. 

Whom  I  to  thy  grace  commend, 

Under  thy  protection  take  : 
Be  her  sure,  immortal  friend  ; 

Save  her  for  my  Saviour's  sake  : 
Free  from  sin,  from  sorrow  free, 
Let  my  widow  trust  in  thee. 

Father  of  the  fatherless, 

Husband  of  the  widow  prove  ; 


204  HYMNS. 

Me  and  mine  vouchsafe  to  bless, 
Tell  me,  we  shall  meet  above  : 
Seal  the  promise  on  my  heart, 
Bid  me  then  in  peace  depart ! 

C.  Wesley. 


SICKNESS  AND  HEALING. 


"  Healing  all  manner  of  sickness,  and  all  manner  of  disease  among  the  peo- 
ple." —  Matt.  iy.  23. 


How  frail  are  these  bodies  of  clay ! 

How  soon  all  their  vigor  is  lost ! 
They  flourish  in  beauty  to-day,  — 

To-morrow  they  mingle  with  dust. 

So  flowers  in  the  morning  may  rise, 
Unfolding  their  leaves  to  the  sun  ; 

While  the  breath  of  each  zephyr  that  sighs 
May  blast  them,  and  soon  they  are  gone. 

Afflictions  spring  not  from  the  ground, 

Diseases  our  Sovereign  obey  ; 
His  hand  can  heal  every  wound, 

Or  fill  us  with  death  and  dismay. 

We  lie  at  thy  sovereign  control, 
O  Lord,  in  this  hour  of  distress  ; 


HYMNS.  205 

Physician  of  body  and  soul, 
Send  down  thy  recovering  grace. 

O,  speak,  and  the  dying  shall  live, 

Jehovah,  almighty  to  save  ! 
At  thy  voice,  e'en  the  dead  shall  revive, 

And  triumph,  at  last,  o'er  the  grave. 


CONVALESCENCE. 


"  For  indeed  he  was  sick  nigh  unto  death  ;  but  God  had  mercy  on  him. 
Phil  ii.  27. 


All  hail !  thou  lengthener  of  my  days  ! 
Thy  still  preserving  love  I  praise, 

And  thankfully  receive 
The  present  of  my  life  restored : 
O,  may  I  spend  it  for  thee,  Lord, 

And  to  thy  glory  live  ! 

No  other  end  of  life  I  'd  know, 
Nor  would  I  live  one  hour  below 

But  to  declare  thy  praise  ; 
To  suffer  all  thy  holy  will, 
And  all  thy  counsel  to  fulfil, 

And  publish  all  thy  grace. 

Wesley. 


206  HYMNS, 


LET  HER  DEPART. 


"  While  we  look  not  at  the  things  which  are  seen,  but  at  the  things  which 
are  not  seen."  —  2  Cor.  iv.  18. 


Her  home  is  far,  O,  far  away  ! 

The  clear  light  in  her  eyes 
Hath  naught  to  do  with  earthly  day, 

'T  is  kindled  from  the  skies. 
Let  her  depart ! 

She  looks  upon  the  things  of  earth, 

Even  as  some  gentle  star 
Seems  gazing  down  on  grief  or  mirth, 

How  softly,  yet  how  far ! 

Let  her  depart ! 

Her  spirit's  hope,  —  her  bosom's  love, 
O,  could  they  mount  and  fly  ! 

She  never  sees  a  wandering  dove, 
But  for  its  wings  to  sigh. 

Let  her  depart ! 

She  never  hears  a  soft  wind  bear 

Low  music  on  its  way, 
But  deems  it  sent  from  heavenly  air, 

For  her  who  cannot  stay. 

Let  her  depart ! 


HYMNS. 


207 


Wrapt  in  a  cloud  of  glorious  dreams, 

She  breathes  and  moves  alone, 
Pining  for  those  bright  bowers  and  streams 
Where  her  beloved  is  gone. 

Let  her  depart ! 

Hemans. 


THE  SICK  CHILD  TO  HIS   MOTHER. 

"  They  desire  a  better  country,  that  is,  an  heavenly."  —  Heb.  xi.  16. 

"  I  hear  thee  speak  of  the  better  land, 
Thou  call'st  its  children  a  happy  band  ;  * 

Mother,  O,  where  is  that  radiant  shore  ? 
Shall  we  not  seek  it,  and  weep  no  more  ? 
Is  it  where  the  flower  of  the  orange  blows, 
And  the  fireflies  glance  through  the  myrtle  boughs  ?  " 
''  Not  there,  not  there,  my  child  !  " 

"  Is  it  where  the  feathery  palm-trees  rise, 
And  the  date  grows  ripe  under  sunny  skies  ? 
Or  'midst  the  green  islands  of  glittering  seas, 
Where  fragrant  forests  perfume  the  breeze, 
And  strange,  bright  birds,  on  their  starry  wings, 
Bear  the  rich  hues  of  all  glorious  things  ?  " 

"  Not  there,  not  there,  my  child  ?  " 

"  Is  it  far  away,  in  some  region  old, 

Where  the  rivers  wander  o'er  sands  of  gold  ? 


208  HYMNS. 

Where  the  burning  rays  of  the  ruby  shine, 
And  the  diamond  lights  up  the  secret  mine, 
And  the  pearl  gleams  forth  from  the  coral  strand  ? 
Is  it  there,  sweet  mother,  that  better  land  ?  " 

"  Not  there,  not  there,  my  child  ! 

"  Eye  hath  not  seen  it,  my  gentle  boy ! 
Ear  hath  not  heard  its  deep  songs  of  joy  ; 
Dreams  cannot  picture  a  world  so  fair : 
Sorrow  and  death  may  not  enter  there  ; 
Time  doth  not  breathe  on  its  fadeless  bloom  , 
Far  beyond  the  clouds,  and  beyond  the  tomb, 

It  is  there,  it  is  there,  my  child !  " 
Hemans. 


THE  SLEEPER.       ■ 
"  For  there  is  that  neither  day  nor  night  seeth  sleep."  —  Eccles.  yiii.  16. 

O,  lightly,  lightly  tread  ! 

A  holy  thing  is  sleep, 
On  the  worn  spirit  shed, 

And  eyes  that  wake  to  weep 


A  holy  thing  from  heaven, 
A  gracious,  dewy  cloud ; 

A  covering  mantle,  given 
The  weary  to  enshroud. 


HYMNS.  209 

O,  lightly,  lightly  tread  ! 

Revere  the  pale,  still  brow$ 
The  meekly  drooping  head, 

The  long  hair's  willowy  flow  ! 

Ye  know  not  what  ye  do, 

That  call  the  slumberer  back 
From  the  world  unseen  by  you, 

Unto  life's  dim,  faded  track. 

Her  soul  is  far  away, 

In  her  childhood's  land,  perchance  ; 
Where  her  young  sisters  play, 

Where  shines  her  mother's  glance. 

Some  old,  sweet  native  sound, 

Her  spirit  haply  weaves, 
A  harmony  profound, 

Of  woods  with  all  their  leaves. 

A  murmur  of  the  sea, 

A  laughing  tone  of  streams  :  — 
Long  may  her  sojourn  be 

In  the  music -land  of  dreams  ! 

Each  voice  of  love  is  there, 

Each  gleam  of  beauty  fled, 
Each  lost  one  still  more  fair,  — 

O,  lightly,  lightly  tread! 

Hemans. 

14 


210  HYMNS. 

THE   STRANGER  AND   HIS  ERIEND. 

"  Ye  have  done  it  unto  me."  —  Matt.  xxv.  40. 

A  poor  wayfaring  man  of  grief 

Hath  often  crossed  me  in  my  way, 
Who  sued  so  humbly  for  relief, 

That  I  could  never  answer,  nay : 
I  had  not  power  to  ask  his  name, 
Whither  he  went,  or  whence  he  came, 
Yet  there  was  something  in  his  eye 
That  won  my  love,  I  knew  not  why. 

Once,  when  my  scanty  meal  was  spread, 
He  entered ;  not  a  word  he  spake. 

Just  perishing  for  want  of  bread, 

I  gave  him  all ;  he  blessed  and  brake, 

And  ate,  —  but  gave  me  part  again. 

Mine  was  an  angel's  portion  then ; 

For  while  I  fed  with  eager  haste, 

That  crust  was  manna  to  my  taste. 

I  spied  him  where  a  fountain  burst 

Clear  from  the  rock ;  his  strength  was  gone ; 

The  heedless  water  mocked  his  thirst, 
He  heard  it,  saw  it  hurrying  on. 

I  ran  to  raise  the  sufferer  up, 

Thrice  from  the  stream  he  drained  my  cup, 

Dipped  and  returned  it  running  o'er, — 

I  drank,  and  never  thirsted  more. 


HYMNS.  21] 

'T  was  night,  the  floods  were  out,  it  blew 

A  winter  hurricane  aloof; 
I  heard  his  voice  abroad,  and  flew 

To  bid  him  welcome  to  my  roof. 
I  warmed,  I  clothed,  I  cheered  my  guest, 
Laid  him  on  my  own  couch  to  rest ; 
Then  made  the  earth  my  bed,  and  seemed 
In  Eden's  garden  while  I  dreamed. 

Stripped,  wounded,  beaten  nigh  to  death, 

I  found  him  by  the  highway  side  ; 
T  roused  his  pulse,  brought  back  his  breath, 

Revived  his  spirits,  and  supplied 
Wine,  oil,  refreshment ;  —  he  was  healed  ;  — 
I  had  myself  a  wound  concealed, 
But  from  that  hour  forgot  the  smart, 
And  peace  bound  up  my  broken  heart. 

I  saw  him  next  in  prison,  condemned 

To  meet  a  traitor's  doom  at  morn ; 
The  tide  of  lying  tongues  I  stemmed, 

And  honored  him,  'midst  shame  and  scorn. 
My  friendship's  utmost  zeal  to  try, 
He  asked  if  I  for  him  would  die : 
The  flesh  was  weak,  my  blood  ran  chill, 
But  the  free  spirit  cried,  —  "I  will !  " 

Then  in  a  moment  to  my  view, 

The  stranger  darted  from  disguise  ; 
The  tokens  in  his  hands  I  knew, 

My  Saviour  stood  before  my  eyes ! 


212  HYMNS. 

He  spoke,  and  my  poor  name  he  named  ; 
"Of  me  thou  hast  not  been  ashamed, 
These  deeds  shall  thy  memorial  be, 
Fear  not,  —  thou  didst  them  unto  me." 

Montgomery. 


"WHY  WEEPEST  THOU?" 

John  xx.  13 

Broken-hearted,  weep  no  more  ! 

Hear  what  comfort  he  hath  spoken, 
Smoking  flax  who  ne'er  hath  quenched, 
Bruised  reed  who  ne'er  hath  broken  :  — 
"  Ye  who  wander  here  below, 
Heavy  laden  as  you  go  ! 
Come,  with  grief,  with  sin  oppressed, 
Come  to  me  and  be  at  rest ! " 

Lamb  of  Jesus'  blood-bought  flock, 

Brought  again  from  sin  and  straying, 
Hear  the  Shepherd's  gentle  voice,  — 
'T  is  a  true  and  faithful  saying :  — 
"  Greater  love  how  can  there  be 
Than  to  yield  up  life  for  thee  ? 
Bought  with  pain,  and  tear,  and  sigh, 
Turn  and  live  !  —  why  will  ye  die  !  " 

Broken-hearted,  weep  no  more  ! 
Far  from  consolation  flying ; 


HYMNS.  213 

He  who  calls  hath  felt  thy  wound, 

Seen  thy  weeping,  heard  thy  sighing  :  — 
44  Bring  thy  broken  heart  to  me  ; 
Welcome  offering  it  shall  be  ; 
Streaming  tears  and  bursting  sighs, 
Mine  accepted  sacrifice." 


JOY  IN  GOD. 

"  I  will  be  glad  in  the  Lord."  —  Ps.  civ.  34. 

When  morning's  first  and  hallowed  ray 
Breaks,  with  its  trembling  light, 

To  chase  the  pearly  dews  away, 
Bright  tear-drops  of  the  night,  — 

My  heart,  O  Lord,  forgets  to  rove, 

But  rises,  gladly  free, 
On  wings  of  everlasting  love, 

And  finds  its  home  in  thee. 

When  evening's  silent  shades  descend, 

And  nature  sinks  to  rest, 
Still,  to  my  Father  and  my  friend 

My  wishes  are  addressed. 

Though  tears  may  dim  my  hours  of  joy, 

And  bid  my  pleasures  flee, 
Thou  reign'st  where  grief  cannot  annoy 

I  will  be  glad  in  thee. 


214  HYMNS. 

And  e'en  when  midnight's  solemn  gloom, 

Above,  around,  is  spread, 
Sweet  dreams  of  everlasting  bloom 

Are  hovering  o'er  my  head. 

I  dream  of  that  fair  land,  0  Lord, 
Where  all  thy  saints  shall  be  ; 

I  wake  to  lean  upon  thy  word, 
And  still  delight  in  thee. 


THE  INQUIRY. 

"  There  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling,  and  there  the  weary  be  at  rest." 
Job.  iii.  17. 

Tell  me,  ye  winged  winds, 
That  round  my  pathway  roar,  — 
Do  ye  not  know  some  spot, 
Where  mortals  weep  no  more  ? 
Some  lone  and  pleasant  dell, 
Some  valley  in  the  west, 
Where,  free  from  toil  and  pain, 
The  weary  soul  may  rest  ? 
The  loud  wind  dwindled  to  a  whisper  low, 
And  sighed  for  pity,  as  it  answered  "  No." 

Tell  me,  thou  mighty  deep, 
Whose  billows  round  me  play,  — 
Know'st  thou  some  favored  spot, 
Some  island  far  away, 


HYMNS.  215 

Where  weary  man  may  find 

The  bliss  for  which  he  sighs, 

Where  sorrow  never  lies, 

And  friendship  never  dies  ? 
The  loud  waves,  roaring  in  perpetual  flow, 
Stopped  for  a  while,  and  sighed  to  answer,  "  No." 

And  thou,  serenest  moon, 

That,  with  such  holy  face, 

Dost  look  upon  the  earth 

Asleep  in  night's  embrace,  — 

Tell  me,  in  all  thy  round, 

Hast  thou  not  seen  some  spot, 

Where  miserable  man 

Might  find  a  happier  lot  ? 
Behind  a  cloud  the  moon  withdrew,  in  woe, 
And  a  sweet  voice,  but  sad,  responded,  "  No." 

Tell  me,  my  sacred  soul, 

O,  tell  me,  hope  and  faith, 

Is  there  no  resting-place 

From  sorrow,  sin,  and  death  ? 

Is  there  no  happy  spot, 

Where  mortals  may  be  blessed, 

Where  grief  may  find  a  balm, 

And  weariness  a  rest  ? 
Faith,  hope,  and  love,  best  boons  to  mortals  given, 
Waved  their  bright  wings,  and  whispered,  "Yes,"  — 
in  heaven. 


216  HYMNS. 


THE  INVITATION.     ' 

"  And  the  Spirit  and  the  bride  say,  Come.  And  let  lv.rg  that  heareth  say. 
Come.  And  let  him  that  is  athirst,  come.  And  whosoever  will,  let  him  take 
the  water  of  life  freely."  —  Rev.  xxii.  17. 

"Come,  who  will,"  —  the  voice  from  heaven, 

Like  a  silver  trumpet,  calls  : 
"  C031E,  who  will,"  —  the  Church  hath  given 

Back  the  echo  from  the  walls. 


"  Come  "  to  rivers  ever  flowing 

From  the  high,  eternal  throne  ; 
"  Come,"  where  God,  his  gifts  bestowing, 

In  the  Church  on  earth  is  known. 

Heavenly  music,  —  each  who  listens, 

Longing  for  his  spirit's  home, 
While  his  eye  with  rapture  glistens, 

Burns  to  say, —  "  I  come,  I  come." 

— • — 
EMPTY  AND  FLEETING. 

■;  Vanity  of  vanities,  saith  the  preacher,  vanity  of  vanities  ;  all  is  vanity."  • 
Eccl.  i.  2. 

Ah,  how  empty,  ah,  how  fleeting, 

Is  the  life  of  mortal  man  ! 
Like  the  flow  of  rapid  river, 
Pausing  in  its  pathway  never,  — 
So  our  davs  are  flowins,  ever. 


HYMNS.  217 

Ah,  how  empty,  ah,  how  fleeting, 

Is  the  joy  of  sighing  man  ! 
Transient  as  a  moment's  treasure, 
Mocking  like  a  shadow's  measure,  — 
So  is  man's  uncertain  pleasure. 

Ah,  how  empty,  ah,  how  fleeting, 

Does  all  human  beauty  seem  ! 
Like  the  form  of  a  fragile  flower, 
Withering  in  an  evil  hour,  — 
So  is  beauty's  fading  power. 

Ah,  how  empty,  ah,  how  fleeting, 

Is  the  honor  of  mankind  ! 
Yesterday,  the  hero  hoary 
Was  the  theme  of  eveiy  story,  — 
Now  he  lies  disrobed  of  glory. 

Ah,  how  empty,  ah,  how  fleeting, 

Is  the  wealth  of  eager  man  ! 
Fire  consumes  while  he  is  sleeping, 
Floods  come  on,  in  fury  sweeping,  — 
Man  is  left  alone,  and  weeping. 

Ah,  how  empty,  ah,  how  fleeting, 

Are  the  things  of  human  life  ! 
All  things  here  together  taken 
May  be  gone  ere  we  awaken, — 
Faith  alone  remains  unshaken. 

Michael  Frank. 


218  HYMNS. 

THE  HEAVENLY  EEST. 

K  There  remaineth,  therefore,  a  rest  to  the  people  of  God."  —  Heb.  iT.  9. 

There  is  an  hour  of  peaceful  rest, 
To  mourning  wanderers  given  ; 
There  is  a  joy  for  souls  distressed, 
A  balm  for  every  wounded  breast,  — 
'T  is  found  alone  in  heaven. 

There  is  a  soft,  a  downy  bed, 

Far  from  these  shades  of  even ; 
A  couch  for  weary  mortals  spread, 
Where  they  may  rest  the  aching  head, 
And  find  repose,  —  in  heaven. 

There  is  a  home  for  weaiy  souls, 

By  sin  and  sorrow  driven  ; 
When  tossed  on  life's  tempestuous  shoals, 
Where  storms  arise,  and  ocean  rolls, 

And  all  is  drear ;  —  't  is  heaven. 

There  faith  lifts  up  her  cheerful  eye, 

To  brighter  prospects  given  ; 
And  views  the  tempest  passing  by, 
The  evening  shadows  quickly  fly, 
And  all  serene,  in  heaven. 


HYMNS.  219 

There  fragrant  flowers  immortal  bloom, 

And  joys  supreme  are  given  : 
There  rays  divine  disperse  the  gloom : 
Beyond  the  confines  of  the  tomb 

Appears  the  dawn  of  heaven. 

W.  B.  Tappan. 


CHRIST  UNCHANGING. 

"  Jesus  Christ,  the  same  yesterday,  and  to-day,  and  for  ever."  —  Heb.  xiii. 

Change  is  written  everywhere, 

Time  and  death  o'er  all  are  ranging  ; 

Seasons,  creatures,  all  declare, 
Man  is  mortal,  earth  is  changing. 

Life,  and  all  its  treasures,  seem 

Like  a  sea  in  constant  motion  ; 
Thanks  for  an  eternal  beam, 

Shining  o'er  the  pathless  ocean. 

One  by  one,  although  each  name 
Providence  or  death  will  sever  ; 

Jesus  Christ  is  still  the  same, 
Yesterday,  to-day,  for  ever. 


220  HYMNS 


HEAVEN  ANTICIPATED. 

"  Knowing  in  yourselves  that  ye  have  in  heaven  a  better  and  an  enduring 
substance."  —  Heb.  x.  34. 


Ah  !  why  this  disconsolate  frame  ? 

Though  earthly  enjoyments  decay, 
My  Jesus  is  ever  the  same, 

A  sun  in  the  gloomiest  day. 
Though  molten  awhile  in  the  fire, 

'T  is  only  the  gold  to  refine  ; 
And  be  it  my  simple  desire, 

Though  suffering,  not  to  repine. 

What  can  be  the  pleasure  to  me, 

Which  earth,  in  its  fulness,  can  boast  ? 
Delusive,  its  vanities  flee, 

A  flash  of  enjoyment,  at  most ! 
And  if  the  Redeemer  could  part, 

For  me,  with  his  throne  in  the  skies, 
Ah  !  why  is  so  dear  to  my  heart 

What  he,  in  his  wisdom,  denies  ? 

Though  riches  to  others  be  given, 

Their  corn  and  their  vintage  abound  ; 
Yet,  if  I  have  treasure  in  heaven, 

Where  should  my  affections  be  found  ? 
Why  stoop  for  the  glittering  sands, 

Which  they  are  so  eager  to  share, 
Forgetting  those  wealthier  lands, 

That  form  my  inheritance  there  ? 


HYMNS.  221 


Dear  Jesus,  my  feelings  refine, 

My  truant  affections  recall ; 
Then,  be  there  no  fruit  on  the  vine, 

Deserted  and  empty  the  stall ; 
The  long-labored  olive  may  die, 

The  field  may  no  harvest  afford  ; 
But,  under  the  gloomiest  sky, 

My  soul  shall  rejoice  in  the  Lord. 

Then  let  the  rude  tempest  assail, 

The  blast  of  adversity  blow ; 
The  haven,  though  distant,  I  hail, 

Beyond  this  rough  ocean  of  woe 
When,  safe  on  the  beautiful  strand, 

I  '11  smile  at  the  billows,  that  foam 
Kind  angels  to  hail  me  to  land, 

And  Jesus  to  welcome  me  home. 


Taylor. 


WHAT  IS  LIFE? 

"In  the  morning  it  flourisheth,  and  groweth  up  ;    in  the  evening  it  is  cut 
down  and  withereth.-'  —  Ps.  xc.  6. 

O,  what  is  life  ?  —  'T  is  like  a  flower, 

That  blossoms,  and  is  gone  ; 
It  flourishes  its  little  hour, 

With  all  its  beauty  on  ; 
Death  comes ;  and,  like  a  wintry  day, 
It  cuts  the  lovely  flower  away. 


222  HYMNS. 

O,  what  is  life  ?  —  'T  is  like  the  bow 

That  glistens  in  the  sky  ; 
We  love  to  see  its  colors  glow, 

But  while  we  look  they  die  ; 
Life  fails  as  soon,  —  to-day  't  is  here, — 
To-morrow  it  may  disappear. 

Lord,  what  is  life  ?  —  If  spent  with  thee, 
In  humble  praise  and  prayer, 

How  long  or  short  our  life  may  be, 
We  feel  no  anxious  care  ; 

Though  life  depart,  our  joys  shall  last, 

When  life  and  all  its  joys  are  past. 

Taylor. 


"THE  TIME  IS   SHORT." 

1  Cor.  vu.  29. 

Whether  we  smile  or  weep, 
Time  wings  his  flight ; 

Days,  hours,  they  never  creep  ; 
Life  speeds  like  light. 

Whether  we  laugh  or  groan, 

Seasons  change  fast ; 
Nothing  hath  ever  flown 

Swift  as  the  past. 


HYMNS.  223 


Whether  we  chafe  or  chide, 

On  is  Time's  pace  ; 
Never  his  noiseless  step 

Doth  he  retrace. 

Speeding,  still  speeding  on, 

How,  none  can  tell ; 
Soon  will  he  bear  us 

To  heaven  or  hell. 

Dare  not,  then,  waste  thy  days, 

Reckless  and  proud  ; 
Lest,  while  ye  dream  not, 

Time  spread  thy  shroud. 


FLEETNESS   OF  LIFE. 


"The  days  of  our  years  are  threescore  years  and  ten ;  and  if  by  reason  of 
strength  they  be  fourscore  years,  yet  is  their  strength  labor  and  sorrow ;  for  it 
is  soon  cut  off,  and  we  fly  away."  —  Ps.  xc.  10. 


Behold 
How  short  a  span 
Was  long  enough,  of  old, 
To  measure  out  the  life  of  man ; 
In  those  well-tempered  days,  his  life  was  then 
Surveyed,  cast  up,  and  found  but  threescore  years  and  ten. 


224  HYMNS. 

How  vain, 
How  wretched,  is 
Poor  man,  that  doth  remain 
A  slave  to  such  a  state  as  this ; 
His  days  are  short  at  longest,  few  at  most, 
They  are  but  bad  at  best,  yet  lavished  out  or  lost. 

They  be 
The  secret  springs 
That  make  our  minutes  flee 
On  wheels  more  swift  than  eagle's  wings. 
Our  life  's  a  clock  ;  and  every  gasp  of  breath 
Breathes  forth  a  warning  grief,  till  time  shall  strike  a 
death. 

How  soon 
Our  new-born  light 
Attains  to  full-aged  noon  ! 
And  this  how  soon  to  gray-haired  night ! 
We  spring,  we  bud,  we  blossom,  and  we  blast, 
Ere  we  can  count  our  days,  our  days  they  flee  so  fast. 

They  end 
When  scarce  begun  ; 
And,  ere  we  apprehend 
That  we  begin  to  live,  our  life  is  done  ; 
Man  !  count  thy  days  ;  and,  if  they  fly  too  fast 
For  thy  dull  thoughts  to  count,  count  every  day  thy  last. 

Quarles. 


HYMNS.  225 


A  THOUGHT  ON  DEATH. 

"  One  dieth  in  his  full  strength  ;  and  another  dieth  in  the  bitterness  of  his 
soul."— Jb&xxi.  23,  25. 

When  life  as  opening  buds  is  sweet, 
And  golden  hopes  the  spirits  greet, 
And  youth  prepares  his  joys  to  meet, 
Alas  !  how  hard  it  is  to  die  ! 

When  scarce  is  seized  some  borrowed  prize, 
And  duties  press  ;  and  tender  ties 
Forbid  the  soul  from  earth  to  rise, 
How  awful,  then,  it  is  to  die  ! 

When,  one  by  one,  those  ties  are  torn, 
And  friend  from  friend  is  snatched  forlorn, 
And  man  is  left  alone  to  mourn, 

Ah  !  then  how  easy  't  is  to  die ! 

When  trembling  limbs  refuse  their  weight, 
And  films,  slow  gathering,  dim  the  sight, 
And  clouds  obscure  the  mental  light, 
'Tis  nature's  precious  boon,  to  die  ! 

Wlien  faith  is  strong,  and  conscience  clear, 
And  words  of  peace  the  spirit  cheer, 
And  visioned  glories  half  appear, 

'T  is  joy,  't  is  triumph,  then,  to  die  ! 

Barbauld. 

15 


226  HYMNS. 

THE  WORLD   TO   COME. 

"  But  now  they  desire  a  better  country,  that  is,  an  heavenly."  —  Heb.  xi.  18. 

If  all  our  hopes,  and  all  our  fears, 

Were  prisoned  in  life's  narrow  bound  ; 
If,  travellers  through  this  vale  of  tears, 

We  saw  no  better  world  beyond,  — 
O,  what  could  check  the  rising  sigh, 

What  earthly  thing  could  pleasure  give  ? 
O,  who  could  venture  then  to  die,  — 

Or  who  could  venture  then  to  live  ? 

Were  life  a  dark  and  desert  moor, 

Where  mists  and  clouds  eternal  spread 
Their  gloomy  veil  behind,  before, 

And  tempests  thunder  overhead  ; 
Where  not  a  sunbeam  breaks  the  gloom, 

And  not  a  floweret  smiles  beneath,  — 
Who  could  exist  in  such  a  tomb, 

Who  dwell  in  darkness  and  in  death  ? 

And  such  were  life,  without  the  ray 

Of  our  divine  religion  given  ; 
'T  is  this  that  makes  our  darkness  day,  — 

'T  is  this  that  makes  our  earth  a  heaven ; 
Bright  is  the  golden  sun  above, 

And  beautiful  the  flowers  that  bloom  ; 
And  all  is  joy,  and  all  is  love, 

Reflected  from  the  world  to  come. 

Bowring. 


HYMNS.  227 


THINGS  UNSEEN. 


"  For  the  things  which  are  seen  are  temporal ;  but  the  things  which  are  not 
=een  are  eternal."  — 2  Cor.  iv.  18. 


There  is  a  state  unknown,  unseen, 
Where  parted  souls  must  be  ; 

And  but  a  step  may  be  between 
That  world  of  souls  and  me. 

I  see  no  light,  I  hear  no  sound, 

When  midnight  shades  are  spread  ; 

Yet  angels  pitch  their  tents  around, 
And  guard  my  quiet  bed. 

Jesus  was  wrapt  from  mortal  gaze, 
And  clouds  conveyed  him  hence  ; 

Enthroned  amid  the  sapphire  blaze, 
Beyond  our  feeble  sense. 

Yet  say  not,  —  Who  shall  mount  on  high, 

To  bring  him  from  above  ? 
For,  lo  !  the  Lord  is  always  nigh 

The  children  of  his  love. 

The  Saviour,  whom  I  long  have  sought, 

And  would,  but  cannot  see  ; 
And,  is  he  here  ?  O,  wondrous  thought ! 

And  will  he  dwell  with  me  ? 


228  HYMNS. 

I  ask  not,  with  my  mortal  eye 

To  view  the  vision  bright ; 
I  dare  not  see  thee,  lest  I  die  ; 

Yet,  Lord,  restore  my  sight. 

Give  me  to  see  thee,  and  to  feei 

The  mental  vision  clear  ; 
'The  things  unseen,  reveal,  reveal ; 
And  let  me  know  them  near. 

Impart  the  faith  that  soars  on  high, 

Beyond  this  earthly  strife, 
That  holds  sweet  converse  with  the  sky, 

And  lives  eternal  life. 

J.  Taylor. 


I  WOULD  NOT  LIVE  ALWAY. 

Job  Tii.  16. 

I  would  not  live  alway,  —  live  alway  below  ! 

0,  no  !   I  '11  not  linger,  when  bidden  to  go. 

The  days  of  our  pilgrimage  granted  us  here 

Are  enough  for  life's  woes,  full  enough  for  its  cheer. 

Would  I  shrink  from  the  path  which  the  prophets  of  God, 

Apostles,  and  martyrs,  so  joyfully  trod  ? 

While  brethren  and  friends  are  all  hastening  home, 

Like  a  spirit  unblest  o'er  the  earth  would  I  roam  ? 


HYMNS.  229 

I  would  not  live  alway,  —  I  ask  not  to  stay, 
Where  storm  after  storm  rises  dark  o'er  the  way  ; 
Where,  seeking  for  peace,  we  but  hover  around, 
Like  the  patriarch's  bird,  and  no  resting  is  found  : 
Where  hope,  when  she  paints  her  gay  bow  on  the  air, 
Leaves  its  brilliance  to  fade  in  the  night  of  despair, 
And  joy's  fleeting  angel  ne'er  sheds  a  glad  ray, 
Save  the  gleam  of  the  plumage  that  bears  him  away. 

I  would  not  live  alway,  —  thus  fettered  by  sin, 
Temptation  without,  and  corruption  within ; 
In  a  moment  of  strength  if  I  sever  the  chain, 
Scarce  the  victory  is  mine  ere  I  'm  captive  again. 
E'en  the  rapture  of  pardon  is  mingled  with  fears, 
And  my  cup  of  thanksgiving  with  penitent  tears  : 
The  festival  trump  calls  for  jubilant  songs, 
But  my  spirit  her  own  miserere  prolongs. 

I  would  not  live  alway,  —  no,  welcome  the  tomb  ; 

Immortality's  lamp  burns  there  bright  'mid  the  gloom  ; 

There,  too,  is  the  pillow  where  Christ  bowed  his  head  ; 

O,  soft  are  the  slumbers  on  that  holy  bed  ! 

And  then  the  glad  dawn  soon  to  follow  that  night, 

WThen  the  sunrise  of  glory  shall  beam  on  my  sight, 

When  the  full  matin  song,  as  the  sleepers  arise 

To  shout  in  the  morning,  shall  peal  through  the  skies. 

Who,  who  would  live  alway  ?  away  from  his  God, 
Away  from  yon  heaven,  that  blissful  abode, 


230 


HYMNS 


Where  the  rivers  of  pleasure  flow  o'er  the  bright  plains. 
And  the  noontide  of  glory  eternally  reigns  ; 
Where  the  saints  of  all  ages  in  harmony  meet, 
Their  Saviour  and  brethren  transported  to  greet, 
While  the  songs  of  salvation  unceasingly  roll, 
And  the  smile  of  the  Lord  is  the  feast  of  the  soul. 

That  heavenly  music !  what  is  it  I  hear  ? 
The  notes  of  the  harpers  ring  sweet  in  the  air : 
And  see,  soft  unfolding  those  portals  of  gold  ; 
The  King  all  arrayed  in  his  beauty  behold ! 
O,  give  me,  O,  give  me  the  wings  of  a  dove ! 
Let  me  hasten  my  flight  to  those  mansions  above  ; 
Ay,  't  is  now  that  my  soul  on  swift  pinions  would  soar, 
And  in  ecstasy  bid  earth  adieu  evermore. 

MUHLENBURG. 


I  AM  WEAEY. 


"  For  they  that  say  such  things,  declare  plainly  that  they  seek  a  country." 
Heb.  xi.  14. 


I  am  weary  of  straying,  —  O,  fain  would  I  rest 
In  the  far  distant  land  of  the  pure  and  the  blest ! 
Where  sin  can  no  longer  her  blandishments  spread, 
And  tears  and  temptations  for  ever  have  fled. 

I  am  weaiy  of  hoping  —  where  hope  is  untrue  : 
As  fair,  but  as  fleeting,  as  morning's  bright  dew ; 


HYMNS.  231 

I  long  for  that  land  whose  blest  promise  alone 
Is  changeless  and  sure  as  eternity's  throne. 

I  am  weary  of  sighing  o'er  sorrows  of  earth, 
O'er  joy's  glowing  visions  that  fade  at  their  birth  ; 
O'er  the  pangs  of  the  loved,  that  we  cannot  assuage ; 
O'er  the  blightings  of  youth,  and  the  weakness  of  age. 

I  am  weary  of  loving  what  passes  away,  — 
The  sweetest,  the  dearest,  alas !  may  not  stay ; 
I  long  for  that  land  where  these  partings  are  o'er, 
And  death  and  the  tomb  can  divide  hearts  no  more. 

I  am  weaiy,  my  Saviour,  of  grieving  thy  love  ; 

O,  when  shall  I  rest  in  thy  presence  above  ? 

I  am  weary,  —  but,  O,  let  me  never  repine, 

While  thy  word,  and  thy  love,  and  thy  promise  are  mine  ! 


COMMITTING  THE  SOUL  TO  JESUS. 

"  Lord  Jesus,  receive  my  spirit !  "  —  Acts  vii.  59. 

Thou,  whose  never-failing  arm 

Led  me  all  my  earthly  way, 

Brought  me  out  of  every  harm 

Safely  to  my  closing  day,  — 

Thou  in  whom  I  now  believe, 
Jesus,  Lord,  my  soul  receive. 


232  HYMNS. 

From  this  state  of  sin  and  pain, 

From  this  world  of  grief  and  strife- 
From  this  body's  mortal  chain, 
From  this  weak,  imperfect  life,  — 
Thou  in  whom  I  now  believe, 
Jesus,  Lord,  my  soul  receive. 

To  the  mansions  of  thy  love, 

To  the  spirits  of  the  just, 
To  the  angel  hosts  above, 

To  thyself,  my  only  trust,  — 

Thou  in  whom  I  now  believe, 
Jesus,  Lord,  my  soul  receive. 

Lyte. 


DESIRING  TO  DEPAKT. 

"  But  now  they  desire  a  better  country,  that  is,  an  heavenly  :  wherefore  God 
not  ashamed  to  be  called  their  God  ;  for  he  hath  prepared  for  them  a  city." 
-  Heb.  xi.  16. 

My  soul,  go  boldly  forth, 
Forsake  this  sinful  earth  ; 
What  hath  it  been  to  thee 

But  pain  and  sorrow  ? 
And  think'st  thou  it  will  be 

Better  to-morrow  ? 

Why  art  thou  for  delay  ? 
Thou  cam'st  not  here  to  stay ; 


H  Y  M  N  S  .  233 

What  tak'st  thou  for  thy  part 

But  heavenly  pleasure  ? 
Where  then  should  be  thy  heart, 

But  where  's  thy  treasure  ? 

Thy  God,  thy  Head  's  above  ; 
There  is  the  world  of  love  ; 
Mansions  there  purchased  are 

By  Christ's  own  merit ; 
For  these  he  doth  prepare 

Thee  by  his  Spirit. 

Lord  Jesus,  take  my  spirit ; 
I  trust  thy  love  and  merit ; 
Take  home  thy  wandering  sheep, 

For  thou  hast  sought  it ; 
My  soul  in  safety  keep, 

For  thou  hast  bought  it. 


LONGING  TO  BE  WITH  CHRIST. 

"  Having  a  desire  to  depart,  and  to  be  with  Christ;  which  is  far  better."  — 
Phil.  i.  23. 

To  Jesus,  the  crown  of  my  hope, 
My  soul  is  in  haste  to  be  gone  ; 

0,  bear  me,  ye  cherubim,  up, 
And  waft  me  away  to  his  throne  ! 


234  HYMNS. 

My  Saviour,  whom  absent  I  love  ; 

Whom,  not  having  seen,  I  adore  ; 
Whose  name  is  exalted  above 

All  glory,  dominion,  and  power : 

Dissolve  thou  these  bonds,  that  detain 
My  soul  from  her  portion  in  thee  , 

Ah !  strike  off  this  adamant  chain, 
And  make  me  eternally  free. 

When  that  happy  era  begins, 

When  arrayed  in  thy  glories  I  shine, 

Nor  grieve  any  more  by  my  sins 
The  bosom  on  which  I  recline,  — 

O,  then  shall  the  veil  be  removed, 

And  round  me  thy  brightness  be  poured ! 

I  shall  meet  him  whom  absent  I  loved, 
I  shall  see  whom  unseen  I  adored. 

And  then  never  more  shall  the  fears, 
The  trials,  temptations,  and  woes, 

Which  darken  this  valley  of  tears, 
Intrude  on  my  blissful  repose. 

Or,  if  yet  remembered  above, 

Remembrance  no  sadness  shall  raise  ; 

They  will  be  but  new  signs  of  thy  love, 
New  themes  for  my  wonder  and  praise. 


HYMNS.  235 

Thus  the  strokes  which  from  sin  and  from  pain 

Shall  set  me  eternally  free, 
Will  but  strengthen  and  rivet  the  chain 

Which  binds  me,  my  Saviour,  to  thee. 

Cowper. 


THE  DYING  CHRISTIAN. 

"  Having  a  desire  to  depart,  and  to  be  with  Christ ;  which  is  far  better."  — 
Phil,  i.  23. 

Haste,  my  spirit,  fly  away  ! 

'T  is  thy  gracious  Saviour  calls ; 
Leave  this  tenement  of  clay, 

Quit  its  broken,  shattered  walls  ; 
Through  these  ruins  I  desciy 
Gleams  of  immortality. 

Cease,  my  friends,  to  weep  for  me, 
I  should  rather  mourn  for  you  ; 

Every  woe  and  sin  I  flee, 

Christ  and  heaven  are  in  my  view ; 

Dare  not  wish  my  soul  to  stay, 

Angels  beckon  me  away. 

God  hath  sent  his  envoy,  death 

Earthly  blessings  I  resign  ; 
Lord,  to  thee  I  yield  my  breath, 

Take  this  ransomed  soul  of  mine  ; 
And  my  songs  of  joy  shall  be 
Ceaseless  as  eternity. 


236  HYMNS 


THE  DYING  CHRISTIAN. 

"  0  death,  •where  is  thy  sting  ?    0  grave,  where  is  thy  victory  ?  "  —  1  Cor. 
sv.  55. 

"  Spirit,  leave  thine  house  of  clay ! 

Lingering  dust,  resign  thy  breath  ! 
Spirit,  cast  thy  chains  away ! 

Dust,  be  thou  dissolved  in  death  !  " 
Thus  the  Almighty  Saviour  speaks, 

While  the  faithful  Christian  dies  ; 
Thus  the  bonds  of  life  he  breaks, 

And  the  ransomed  captive  flies. 

"  Prisoner,  long  detained  below  ! 

Prisoner,  now  with  freedom  blest ! 
Welcome,  from  a  world  of  woe ! 

Welcome  to  a  land  of  rest !  " 
Thus  the  choir  of  angels  sing, 

As  they  bear  the  soul  on  high ; 
While  with  hallelujahs  ring 

All  the  regions  of  the  sky. 

Grave,  the  guardian  of  our  dust  ! 

Grave,  the  treasury  of  the  skies ! 
Every  atom  of  thy  trust 

Rests  in  hope  again  to  rise  ! 
Hark  !  the  judgment  trumpet  calls  ! 

"  Soul,  rebuild  thy  house  of  clay ; 
Immortality  thy  walls, 

And  eternity  thy  day  !  " 

Montgomery. 


HYMNS.  237 

TRIUMPH  OVER  DEATH. 

"  0  death,  -fi-here  is  thy  sting? "  —  1  Cor.  xv.  55 

Deathless  principle,  arise ! 
Soar,  thou  native  of  the  skies ! 
Pearl  of  price,  by  Jesus  bought, 
To  his  glorious  likeness  wrought, 
Go  to  shine  before  his  throne, 
Deck  his  mediatorial  crown  ; 
Go,  his  triumphs  to  adorn, 
Born  for  God,  to  God  return. 

Lo,  he  beckons  from  on  high  ! 
Fearless  to  his  presence  fly  ; 
Thine  the  merit  of  his  blood, 
Thine  the  righteousness  of  God  ! 
Angels,  joyful  to  attend, 
Hovering  round  thy  pillow  bend  ; 
Wait  to  catch  the  signal  given, 
And  escort  thee  quick  to  heaven. 

Is  thy  earthly  house  distressed  ? 
Willing  to  retain  its  guest  ? 
'Tis  not  thou,  but  it,  must  die, — 
Fly,  celestial  tenant,  fly  ! 
Burst  thy  shackles,  drop  thy  clay, 
Sweetly  breathe  thyself  away ; 
Singing,  to  thy  crown  remove, 
Swift  of  wing,  and  fired  with  love 


238  HYMNS. 

Shudder  not  to  pass  the  stream, 
Venture  all  thy  care  on  Him  ; 
Him,  whose  dying  love  and  power 
Stilled  its  tossing,  hushed  its  roar ; 
Safe  in  the  expanded  wave, 
Gentle  as  a  summer's  eve, 
Not  one  object  of  his  care 
Ever  suffered  shipwreck  there ! 

See  the  haven  full  in  view, 

Love  divine  shall  bear  thee  through ; 

Trust  to  that  propitious  gale, 

Weigh  thine  anchor,  spread  thy  sail : 

Saints  in  glory  perfect  made 

Wait  thy  passage  through  the  shade  : 

Ardent  for  thy  coming  o'er, 

See,  they  throng  the  blissful  shore ! 

Mount,  their  transports  to  improve, 
Join  the  longing  choir  above, 
Swiftly  to  their  wish  be  given, 
Kindle  higher  joy  in  heaven,  — 
Such  the  prospects  that  arise 
To  the  dying  Christian's  eyes ! 
Such  the  glorious  vista  faith 
Opens  through  the  shades  of  death  ! 

TOPLADY. 


HYMNS.  239 


SURRENDER  AND  DEPARTURE. 

"  Intc  thy  hand  I  commit  my  spirit :  thou  hast  redeemed  me,  0  Lord  God  of 
truth." —  Ps.  xxxi.  5. 

God  of  my  life  !  thy  boundless  grace 
Chose,  pardoned,  and  adopted  me  ; 

My  rest,  my  home,  my  dwelling-place ; 
Father !  I  come  to  thee. 

Jesus,  my  hope,  my  rock,  my  shield ! 

Whose  precious  blood  was  shed  for  me, 
Into  thy  hands  my  soul  I  yield ; 

Saviour  !  I  come  to  thee. 

Spirit  of  glory  and  of  God  ! 

Long  hast  thou  deigned  my  guide  to  be ; 
Now  be  thy  comfort  sweet  bestowed  ; 

My  God  !  I  come  to  thee. 

I  come  to  join  that  countless  host, 
Who  praise  thy  name  unceasingly  ; 

Blest  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost ! 
My  God  !  I  come  to  thee. 


240  HYMNS. 


WEEP  NOT  EOR  ME. 

'•  What  mean  ye  to  weep  and  to  break  mine  heart? "  —  Acts.  xxi.  13. 

When  the  spark  of  life  is  waning, 

Weep  not  for  me. 
When  the  languid  eye  is  straining, 

Weep  not  for  me. 
When  the  feeble  pulse  is  ceasing, 
Start  not  at  its  swift  decreasing, 

Weep  not  for  me. 


'T  is  the  fettered  soul's  releasing 


When  the  pangs  of  death  assail  me, 

Weep  not  for  me. 
Christ  is  mine,  —  he  cannot  fail  me  ; 

Weep  not  for  me. 
Yes,  though  sin  and  doubt  endeavor 
From  his  love  my  soul  to  sever, 
Jesus  is  my  strength  —  for  ever  ! 

Weep  not  for  me. 

Dabe. 


WEEP  NOT  FOR  ME. 

"  What  mean  ye  to  weep  and  to  break  mine  heart  ?  "  —  Acts,  xxi  13. 

O,  weep  not  for  me  !  I  can  never  be  blest, 
Till  my  sorrowful  spirit  in  Jesus  shall  rest ; 
Till  this  body  of  sin  and  of  death  be  destroyed, 
And  the  soul  for  its  glory  alone  be  employed. 


HYMNS.  241 

O,  weep  not  for  me  !  now  my  joys  will  begin  ; 
I  shall  know  the  full  meaning  of  ceasing  from  sin ; 
I  shall  know  how  the  saints  are  made  perfect  in  love, 
And  be  spotless  and  pure  as  the  angels  above. 

O,  weep  not  for  me  !  soon  my  death-pangs  will  cease, 
And  this  suffering  body  will  slumber  in  peace  ; 
My  soul,  even  now,  is  in  haste  to  be  gone, 
And  her  robe  with  the  undefiled  saints  to  put  on. 

O,  weep  not  for  me !  the  glad  moment  is  come, 
Which  tells  me  I  am  now  made  meet  for  my  home ; 
My  Saviour  has  willed  I  should  now  be  removed, 
His  face  to  behold,  whom  unseen  I  have  loved. 

O,  weep  not  for  me  !  I  can  welcome  the  pains 
Which  break  every  bond  that  my  spirit  detains ; 
And  ere  long,  by  his  own  gracious  hand,  the  last  tear 
Will  be  wiped  from  these  eyes,  which  so  often  weep 
here. 


THE  RIGHTEOUS  IN  DEATH. 

"Blessed  are  the  dead  which  die  in  the  Lord,  from  henceforth."  —  Re v. 
xiv.  13. 

How  blest  the  righteous  when  he  dies  ! 

When  sinks  a  weary  soul  to  rest ! 
How  mildly  beam  the  closing  eyes  ! 

How  gently  heaves  the  expiring  breast ! 
16 


242  H  Y  M  N  S  . 

So  fades  a  summer  cloud  away  ; 

So  sinks  the  gale  when  storms  are  o'er ; 
So  gently  shuts  the  eye  of  day  ; 

So  dies  a  wave  along  the  shore. 

A  holy  quiet  reigns  around,  — 

A  calm  which  life  nor  death  destroys ; 

And  naught  disturbs  that  peace  profound, 
Which  his  unfettered  soul  enjoys. 

Farewell !  conflicting  hopes  and  fears, 
Where  lights  and  shades  alternate  dwell ; 

How  bright  the  unchanging  morn  appears ! 
Farewell,  inconstant  world,  farewell ! 

Life's  labor  done,  as  sinks  the  clay, 
Light  from  its  load  the  spirit  flies, 

While  heaven  and  earth  combine  to  say, 
"  How  blest  the  righteous  when  he  dies ! " 

Barbauld. 


THE  DYING  INFANT. 

He  shall  tell  thee  what  shall  become  of  the  child."  —  1  Kings  xiv.  3. 

Cease  here  longer  to  detain  me, 
Fondest  mother,  drowned  in  woe  ; 

Now  thy  kind  caresses  pain  me  ; 
Morn  advances,  —  let  me  go. 


HYMNS.  243 

See  yon  orient  streak  appearing ! 

Harbinger  of  endless  day  ; 
Hark  !  a  voice,  the  darkness  cheering, 

Calls  my  new-born  soul  away ! 

Lately  launched,  a  trembling  stranger, 
On  this  world's  wide,  boisterous  flood  •, 

Pierced  with  sorrows,  tossed  with  danger, 
Gladly  I  return  to  God. 

Now  my  cries  shall  cease  to  grieve  thee ; 

Now  my  trembling  heart  find  rest ; 
Kinder  arms  than  thine  receive  me, 

Softer  pillow  than  thy  breast. 

Weep  not  o'er  these  eyes  that  languish, 
Upward  turning  toward  their  home  : 

Raptured  they  '11  forget  all  anguish, 
While  they  wait  to  see  thee  come. 

There,  my  mother,  pleasures  centre  ; 

Weeping,  parting,  care,  or  woe 
Ne'er  our  Father's  house  shall  enter :  — 

Morn  advances,  —  let  me  go. 

As,  through  this  calm  and  holy  dawning, 

Silent  glides  my  parting  breath, 
To  an  everlasting  morning, 

Gently  close  my  eyes  in  death. 


244  HYMNS. 

Blessings  endless,  richest  blessings, 
Pour  their  streams  upon  thy  heart ! 

(Though  no  language  yet  possessing,) 
Breathes  my  spirit  ere  we  part. 

Yet  to  leave  thee  sorrowing  rends  me, 
Now  again  his  voice  I  hear  : 

Rise  !  may  every  grace  attend  thee  , 
Rise  !  and  seek  to  meet  me  there. 

Cecil. 


THE  DYING  DAUGHTER. 

u  For  it  is  better  for  me  to  die  than  to  lire."  —  Jonah  ir.  3. 

My  mother,  look  not  on  me  now 

With  that  sad,  earnest  eye  : 
Blame  me  not,  mother  ;  blame  not  thou 

My  heart's  last  wish,  —  to  die. 

I  camiot  wrestle  with  the  strife 

I  once  had  heart  to  bear ; 
And  if  I  yield  a  youthful  life, 

Full  hath  it  been  of  care. 

Nay,  weep  not ;  on  my  brow  is  set 

The  age  of  grief,  not  years  : 
Its  furrows'  thou  mayst  wildly  wet, 

But  ne'er  wash  out  with  tears. 


HYMNS. 


245 


And  couldst  thou  see  my  weary  heart, 

Too  weary  even  to  sigh, 
O,  mother,  mother !  thou  wouldst  start, 

And  say,  "  'T  were  best  to  die." 

I  know  't  is  summer  on  the  earth, 

I  hear  a  pleasant  tune 
Of  waters  in  their  chiming  mirth  ; 

I  feel  the  breath  of  June. 

The  roses  through  my  lattice  look ; 

The  bee  goes  singing  by  ; 
The  peasant  takes  his  harvest  hook,  — 

Yet,  mother,  let  me  die. 

There  's  nothing  in  this  time  of  flowers, 

That  hath  a  voice  for  me, — 
The  whispering  leaves,  the  sunny  hours, 

The  bright,  the  glad,  the  free. 

There  's  nothing  but  thy  own  deep  love, 

And  that  will  live  on  high  ; 
Then,  mother,  now  my  heart 's  above,  — 

Kind  mother,  let  me  die. 

Jewsbury. 


246  HYMNS. 

IMMORTALITY. 

"  If  a  man  die,  shall  he  live  again  ? "  — Job  xiv.  14. 

In  the  dust  I  'm  doomed  to  sleep, 

But  shall  not  sleep  for  ever ; 
Fear  may  for  a  moment  weep, 

Christian  courage,  never. 
Years  in  rapid  course  shall  roll, 

By  time's  chariot  driven, 
And  my  reawakened  soul 

Wing  its  flight  to  heaven. 

What  though  o'er  my  mortal  tomb 

Clouds  and  mists  be  blending  ? 
Sweetest  hope  shall  chase  the  gloom, 

Hopes  to  heaven  ascending. 
These  shall  be  my  stay,  my  trust, 

Ever  bright  and  vernal ;  — 
Life  shall  blossom  out  of  dust, 

Life  and  joy  eternal. 

Bowring. 


THE  POOR  MAN'S  DEATH-BED. 
"  Yet  no  man  remembered  that  same  poor  man."  —  Eccies.  ix.  15. 

Tread  softly  !  bow  the  head, 
In  reverent  silence  bow  ! 
No  passing-bell  doth  toll, 
Yet  an  immortal  soul 

Is  passing  now. 


H  Y  M  N  S  .  247 

Stranger  !  how  great  soe'er, 
With  lowly  reverence  bow ! 
There  's  one  in  that  poor  shed, 
One  by  that  wretched  bed, 
Greater  than  thou. 

Beneath  that  pauper's  roof, 
Lo  !  Death  doth  keep  his  state  ; 
Enter,  —  no  crowds  attend  : 
Enter,  —  no  guards  defend 
This  palace  gate. 

That  pavement  damp  and  cold, 
No  whispering  courtiers  tread. 
One  silent  woman  stands, 
Chafing,  with  pale,  thin  hands, 
A  dying  head. 

No  busy  murmurs  sound  ; 
An  infant  wail  alone  : 
A  sob  suppressed,  —  again 
That  short,  deep  gasp,  —  and  then 
The  parting  groan  ! 

O  change  !  O  wondrous  chancre  ! 
Burst  are  the  prison  bars  ! 
This  moment  there,  —  so  low 
In  mortal  prayer,  —  and  now 
Beyond  the  stars  ! 


248  HYMNS 


O  change  !  stupendous  change  ! 
Here  lies  the  senseless  clod  ; 
The  soul  from  bondage  breaks, 
The  new  immortal  wakes,  — 
Wakes  with  his  God. 

C.  Bowles. 


THE  AGED  CHRISTIAN. 


"  Lord,  now  lettest  thou  thy  servant  depart  in  peace,  according  to  thy  word. 
•  Luke  ii.  29. 


'T  is  enough,  —  the  hour  is  come 
Now  within  the  silent  tomb 
Let  this  mortal  frame  decay, 
Mingled  with  its  kindred  clay  ; 
Since  thy  mercies,  oft  of  old 
By  thy  chosen  seers  foretold, 
Faithful  now  and  steadfast  prove, 
God  of  truth  and  God  of  love  ! 

Since  at  length  my  aged  eye 
Sees  the  day-spring  from  on  high  ! 
Those  whom  death  had  overspread 
With  his  dark  and  dreary  shade, 
Lift  their  eyes,  and  from  afar 
Hail  the  light  of  Jacob's  star  ; 
Waiting  till  the  promised  ray 
Turn  their  darkness  into  day. 


HYMNS.  249 

Sun  of  righteousness,  to  thee, 
Lo  !  the  nations  bow  the  knee  ; 
And  the  realms  of  distant  kings 
Own  the  healing  of  thy  wings. 
See  the  beams,  intensely  shed, 
Shine  on  Zion's  favored  head ! 
Never  may  they  hence  remove, 
God  of  truth  and  God  of  love  ! 

Merrick. 


"THE  TIME  OF  THE  DEAD." 

Rev.  xi.  18. 

Great  God  !  what  do  I  see  and  hear  ? 

The  end  of  things  created  ! 
Behold  the  Judge  of  man  appear, 

On  clouds  of  glory  seated  ! 
The  trumpet  sounds,  the  graves  restore 
The  dead  which  they  contained  before  : 

Prepare,  my  soul,  to  meet  him. 

The  dead  in  Christ  shall  first  arise, 
At  the  last  trumpet's  sounding, 

Caught  up  to  meet  him  in  the  skies, 
With  joy  their  Lord  surrounding  ; 

No  gloomy  fears  their  soul  dismay ; 

His  presence  sheds  eternal  day 
On  those  prepared  to  meet  him. 


250  HYMNS. 

But  sinners,  filled  with  guilty  fears, 

Behold  his  wrath  prevailing  ; 
For  they  shall  rise,  and  find  their  tears 

And  sighs  are  unavailing : 
The  day  of  grace  is  past  and  gone  ; 
Trembling  they  stand  before  the  throne 

All  unprepared  to  meet  him  ! 

Great  God !  what  do  I  see  and  hear  ? 

The  end  of  things  created  ! 
Behold  the  Judge  of  man  appear, 

On  clouds  of  glory  seated  ! 
Low  at  his  cross  I  wait  the  day, 
When  heaven  and  earth  shall  pass  away, 

And  thus  prepare  to  meet  him  ! 

Luther. 


HEAVENLY  REST. 

There  veraaineth,  therefore,  a  rest  for  the  people  of  God."  — Heb.  iv.  9. 

Sweet  is  the  name  of  rest ! 

How  much  the  word  conveys  ! 
It  is  to  be  supremely  blest 

In  the  bright  world  of  praise. 

It  is  to  rest  from  sin, 

Which  here  will  still  endure  ; 

The  holy  place  to  enter  in, 
And  be  for  ever  pure. 


HYMNS.  251 

It  is  to  rest  from  pain, 

From  grief,  from  doubt,  from  fear: 
No  sickness,  parting,  death  again, 

Nor  any  falling  tear. 

It  is  to  rest  with  Him, 

Whom  now  unseen  we  trust, 
With  cherubim  and  seraphim, 

And  spirits  of  the  just. 

A  perfect  cloudless  rest, 

An  endless  Sabbath-day  ; 
Blest  portion  yet  to  be  possessed, 

And  never  fade  away. 


HEAVEN. 

u  4nd  God  shall  wipe  away  all  tears  from  their  eyes  ;  and  there  shall  be  no 
more  death,  neither  sorrow,  nor  crying,  neither  shall  there  be  any  more  pain  ; 
for  the  former  things  are  passed  away."  —  Rev.  xxi.  4. 

No  sickness  there,  — 
No  weary  wasting  of  the  frame  away, 
No  fearful  shrinking  from  the  midnight  air, 
No  dread  of  summer's  bright  and  fervid  ray. 

No  hidden  grief, 
No  wild  and  cheerless  vision  of  despair, 
No  vain  petition  for  a  swift  relief, 
No  tearful  eyes,  no  broken  hearts,  are  there. 


252  HYMNS. 

Care  has  no  home 
Within  the  realm  of  ceaseless  prayer  and  song  ; 
Its  billows  break  and  melt  away  in  foam, 
Far  from  the  mansions  of  the  spirit  throng. 

The  storm's  black  wing 
Is  never  spread  athwart  celestial  skies ; 
Its  wailings  blend  not  with  the  voice  of  spring, 
As  some  too  tender  floweret  fades  and  dies. 

No  night  distils 
Its  chilling  dews  upon  the  tender  frame, 
No  moon  is  needed  there.    The  light  which  fills 
That  land  of  glory,  from  its  Maker  came. 

No  parted  friends 
O'er  mournful  recollections  have  to  weep  ; 
No  bed  of  death  enduring  love  attends, 
To  watch  the  coming  of  a  pulseless  sleep. 

No  blasted  flower, 
Or  withered  bud,  celestial  gardens  know ; 
No  scorching  blast,  or  fierce-descending  shower, 
Scatters  destruction  like  a  ruthless  foe. 

No  battle  word 
Startles  the  sacred  host  with  fear  and  dread ; 
The  song  of  peace  creation's  morning  heard 
Is  sung  wherever  angel  minstrels  tread. 


HYMNS.  258 

Let  us  depart, 
If  home  like  this  await  the  weary  soul. 
Look  up,  thou  stricken  one  !     Thy  wounded  heart 
Shall  bleed  no  more  at  sorrow's  stern  control. 

With  faith  our  guide, 
White-robed  and  innocent,  to  lead,  the  way, 
Why  fear  to  plunge  in  Jordan's  rolling  tide, 
And  find  the  ocean  of  eternal  day. 


THE  FAMILY  IN  HEAVEN  AND  EAETH. 

Of  whom  the  whole  family  in  heaven  and  earth  is  named."  —  Epk.  iii.  15. 

Come,  let  us  join  our  friends  above, 
That  have  obtained  the  prize  ; 

And  on  the  eagle  wings  of  love, 
To  joy  celestial  rise. 

Let  saints  below  in  concert  sing, 

With  those  to  glory  gone  ; 
For  all  the  servants  of  our  King 

In  heaven  and  earth  are  one. 

One  family,  we  dwell  in  him ; 

One  church  above,  beneath  ; 
Though  now  divided  by  the  stream, 

The  narrow  stream,  of  death. 


254  HYMNS. 

One  army  of  the  living  God, 

To  his  command  we  bow ; 
Part  of  the  host  have  crossed  the  flood, 

And  part  are  crossing  now. 

Each  moment,  to  their  endless  home, 

Some  parting  spirits  fly  ; 
And  we  are  to  the  margin  come, 

And  soon  expect  to  die. 

Dear  Saviour,  be  our  constant  guide, 
Then,  when  the  word  is  given, 

Bid  death's  cold  flood  and  stream  divide, 
And  land  us  safe  in  heaven. 

C.  Wesley. 


THOUGHTS  OF  ETERNITY. 

"  And  fulfil  all  the  good  pleasure  of  his  goodness,  and   the  work  of  faith 
with  power."  —  1  Tliess.  i.  11. 

Thou  God  of  glorious  majesty, 
To  thee,  against  myself,  to  thee, 

A  worm  of  earth,  I  cry  ; 
A  half-awakened  child  of  man  ; 
An  heir  of  endless  bliss  or  pain ; 

A  sinner  born  to  die  ! 

Lo  !  on  a  narrow  neck  of  land, 
Twist  two  unbounded  seas,  I  stand, 
Secure !  insensible ! 


HYMNS.  255 

A  point  of  time,  a  moment's  space, 
Removes  me  to  that  heavenly  place, 
Or  shuts  me  up  in  hell. 

O  God,  mine  inmost  soul  convert, 
And  deeply  on  my  thoughtless  heart 

Eternal  things  impress ! 
Give  me  to  feel  their  solemn  weight, 
And  save  me  ere  it  be  too  late, 

Wake  me  to  righteousness. 

Before  me  place  in  dread  array 
The  pomp  of  that  tremendous  day, 

When  thou  with  clouds  shalt  come 
To  judge  the  nations  at  thy  bar ; 
And  tell  me,  Lord,  shall  I  be  there 

To  meet  a  joyful  doom  ? 

Be  this  my  one  great  business  here, 
With  holy  diligence  and  fear 

To  make  my  calling  sure  ; 
Thine  utmost  counsel  to  fulfil, 
And  suffer  all  thy  righteous  will, 

And  to  the  end  endure. 

Then,  Saviour,  then  my  soul  receive, 
Transported  from  this  vale,  to  live 

And  reign  with  thee  above  ; 
Where  faith  is  sweetly  lost  in  sight, 
And  hope  in  full,  supreme  delight, 

And  everlasting  love. 

Wesley. 


256 


HYMNS. 


OUR  REST. 


"  For  I  reckon  that  the  sufferings  of  this  present  time  are  not  worthy  to  be 
compared  with  the  glory  which  shall  be  revealed  in  us."  —  Rom.  viii.  18. 


My  feet  are  worn  and  weary  with  the  march 
Over  the  rough  road  and  up  the  steep  hill-side  ; 

O  city  of  our  God  !  I  fain  would  see 

Thy  pastures  green,  where  peaceful  waters  glide. 

My  hands  are  weary,  toiling  on, 

Day  after  day,  for  perishable  meat ; 
O  city  of  our  God  !  I  fain  would  rest,  — 

I  sigh  to  gain  thy  glorious  mercy-seat. 

My  garments,  travel-worn  and  stained  with  dust, 
Oft  rent  by  briers  and  thorns  that  crowd  my  way, 

Would  fain  be  made,  O  Lord,  my  righteousness  ! 
Spotless  and  white  in  heaven's  unclouded  ray. 

My  eyes  are  weary  looking  at  the  sin, 

Impiety,  and  scorn  upon  the  earth ; 
O  city  of  our  God  !  within  thy  walls 

All  —  all  are  clothed  again  with  thy  new  birth. 

My  heart  is  weary  of  its  own  deep  sin,  — 
Sinning,  repenting,  sinning  still  again  ; 

When  shall  my  soul  thy  glorious  presence  feel, 
And  find,  dear  Saviour,  it  is  free  from  stain  ? 


HYMNS.  257 

Patience,  poor  soul !  the  Saviour's  feet  were  worn  ; 

The  Saviour's  heart  and  hands  were  weary,  too ; 
His  garments  stained,  and  travel- worn,  and  old ; 

His  vision  blinded  with  a  pitying  dew. 

Love  thou  the  path  of  sorrow  that  he  trod ; 

Toil  on,  and  wait  in  patience  for  thy  rest ; 
O  city  of  our  God  !  we  soon  shall  see 

Thy  glorious  walls,  —  home  of  the  loved  and  blest. 


I  WOULD  NOT  LIVE  ALWAYS. 
Job  vii.  16. 

Earth  is  the  spirit's  rayless  cell ; 
But  then,  as  a  bird  soars  home  to  the  shade 
Of  the  beautiful  wood,  where  its  nest  was  made, 

In  bonds  no  more  to  dwell ;  — 

So  will  its  weary  wing 
Be  spread  for  the  skies,  when  its  toil  is  done ; 
And  its  breath  flow  free,  as  a  bird's  in  the  sun, 

And  the  soft  fresh  gales  of  spring. 

O,  not  more  sweet  the  tears 
Of  the  dewy  eve  on  the  violet  shed, 
Than  the  dews  of  age  on  the  "  hoary  head," 

When  it  enters  the  eve  of  years. 
17 


258  H  Y  M  N  S  . 

Nor  dearer  amid  the  foam 
Of  the  far-off  sea,  and  its  stormy  roar, 
Is  a  breath  of  balm  from  the  unseen  shore, 

To  him  that  weeps  for  home. 

Wings,  like  a  dove,  to  fly  !  — 
The  spirit  is  faint  with  its  feverish  strife  ;  — 
0  for  its  home  in  the  upper  life ! 

When,  when  will  death  draw  nigh  ? 


VIA  CRUCIS,  VIA  LUCIS. 

"  Brought  life  and  immortality  to  light."  —  2  Tim.  i.  10. 

Night  turns  to  day  :  — 

When  sullen  darkness  lowers, 

And  heaven  and  earth  are  hid  from  sight, 

Cheer  up,  cheer  up  ! 

Ere  long  the  opening  flowers, 

With  dewy  eyes,  shall  shine  in  light. 

Storms  die  in  calms  :  — 

When  over  land  and  ocean 

Roll  the  loud  chariots  of  the  wind, 

Cheer  up,  cheer  up ! 

The  voice  of  wild  commotion 

Proclaims  tranquillity  behind. 


HYMNS.  259 

Winter  wakes  spring :  — 

When  icy  blasts  are  blowing 

O'er  frozen  lakes,  through  naked  trees, 

Cheer  up,  cheer  up  ! 

All  beautiful  and  glowing, 

May  floats  in  fragrance  on  the  breeze. 

War  ends  in  peace  :  — 

Though  dread  artillery  rattle, 

And  ghastly  corpses  load  the  ground, 

Cheer  up,  cheer  up  ! 

Where  groaned  the  field  of  battle, 

The  song,  the  dance,  the  feast  go  round. 

Toil  brings  repose :  — 

With  noontide  fervors  beating, 

When  droop  thy  temples  o'er  thy  breast, 

Cheer  up,  cheer  up  ! 

Gray  twilight,  cool  and  fleeting, 

Wafts  on  its  wing  the  hour  of  rest. 

Death  springs  to  life  :  — 

Though  brief  and  sad  thy  story, 

Thy  years  all  spent  in  care  and  gloom, 

Look  up,  look  up ! 

Eternity  and  glory 

Dawn  through  the  portals  of  the  tomb. 

Montgomery. 


260  HYMNS. 

MEET  AGAIN. 

':  That  he  should  gather  together  in  one  the  children  of  God."  —John  xi.  52 

Joyful  words,  —  we  meet  again  ! 
Love's  own  language,  comfort  darting 
Through  the  souls  of  friends  at  parting : 

Life  in  death,  —  we  meet  again  ! 

While  we  walk  this  vale  of  tears, 
Compassed  round  with  care  and  sorrow, 
Gloom  to-day,  and  storm  to-morrow, 

"  Meet  again  !  "  our  bosom  cheers. 

Far  in  exile  when  we  roam, 
O'er  our  lost  endearments  weeping, 
Lonely,  silent  vigils  keeping, 

"  Meet  again !  "  transports  us  home. 

When  this  weaiy  world  is  past, 
Happy  they,  whose  spirits  soaring, 
Vast  eternity  exploring, 

"  Meet  again"  in  heaven  at  last. 

Montgomery. 


HYMNS.  261 

"BEHOLD,  I  WAS  LEFT  ALONE." 
Isa.  xlix.  21. 

Where  are  ye  with  whom  in  life  I  started, 
Dear  companions  of  my  golden  days  ? 

Ye  are  dead,  estranged  from  me,  or  parted, 
Flown,  like  morning  clouds,  a  thousand  ways. 

Where  art  thou,  in  youth  my  friend  and  brother, 
Yea,  in  soul  my  friend  and  brother  still  ? 

Heaven  received  thee,  and  on  earth  none  other 
Can  the  void  in  my  lorn  bosom  fill. 

Where  is  she,  whose  looks  were  love  and  gladness, 

Love  and  gladness  I  no  longer  see  ! 
She  is  gone  ;  and  since  that  hour  of  sadness, 

Nature  seems  her  sepulchre  to  me. 

Where  am  I  ?  —  life's  current,  faintly  flowing, 
Brings  the  welcome  warning  of  release ; 

Struck  with  death,  ah !  whither  am  I  going  ? 
All  is  well,  —  my  spirit  parts  in  peace. 

Montgomery. 


262  HYMNS. 

THE  GRAVE. 

"  He  believeth  not  that  he  shall  return  out  of  darkness."  —  Job  xr.  22. 

There  is  a  calm  for  those  who  weep  ; 

A  rest  for  weaiy  pilgrims  found  : 
They  softly  lie,  and  sweetly  sleep, 

Low  in  the  ground. 

The  storm  that  wrecks  the  wintry  sky 
No  more  disturbs  their  deep  repose, 
Than  summer  evening's  latest  sigh, 

That  shuts  the  rose. 

I  long  to  lay  this  painful  head, 

And  aching  heart,  beneath  the  soil ; 
To  slumber,  in  that  dreamless  bed, 
From  all  my  toil. 

The  grave  that  never  spoke  before 

Hath  found  at  length  a  tongue  to  chide  ; 
O,  listen  !  I  will  speak  no  more  !  — 
Be  silent,  pride ! 

Art  thou  a  mourner  ?  hast  thou  known 

The  joy  of  innocent  delights, 
Endearing  days  for  ever  flown, 

And  tranquil  nights  ? 


HYMNS.  263 

O,  live  and  deeply  cherish  still 

The  sweet  remembrance  of  the  past ; 
Rely  on  Heaven's  unchanging  will 
For  peace  at  last. 

Though  long  of  winds  and  waves  the  sport, 

Condemned  in  wretchedness  to  roam  ; 
Live  !  thou  shalt  reach  a  sheltering  port, 
A  quiet  home  ! 

Seek  the  true  treasure,  seldom  found, 

Of  power  the  fiercest  griefs  to  calm, 
And  soothe  the  bosom's  deepest  wound 
With  heavenly  balm. 

Whate'er  thy  lot,  —  where'er  thou  be,  — 

Confess  thy  folly,  — kiss  the  rod  ; 
And  in  thy  chastening  sorrows  see 

The  hand  of  God. 

A  bruised  reed  he  will  not  break, 
Afflictions  all  his  children  feel ; 
He  wounds  them  for  his  mercy's  sake, 
He  wounds  to  heal ! 

Humbled  beneath  his  mighty  hand, 

Prostrate  his  providence  adore  : 
'T  is  done  !  arise  !  he  bids  thee  stand, 
To  fall  no  more. 


264  HYMNS. 

Now,  traveller  in  the  vale  of  tears  ! 

To  realms  of  everlasting  light, 
Through  time's  dark  wilderness  of  years, 
Pursue  thy  flight. 

There  is  a  calm  for  those  who  weep, 

A  rest  for  weary  pilgrims  found  ; 
And  while  the  mouldering  ashes  sleep 

Low  in  the  ground,  — 

The  soul,  of  origin  divine, 

God's  glorious  image,  freed  from  clay, 
In  heaven's  eternal  sphere  shall  shine, 
A  star  of  day  ! 

The  sun  is  but  a  spark  of  fire, 

A  transient  meteor  in  the  sky ; 
The  soul,  immortal  as  its  Sire, 

Shall  never  die  ! 

Montgomery. 


"A  BETTER  COUNTRY." 

Heb.  xi.  16. 

There  is  a  land  of  pure  delight, 
Where  saints  immortal  reign  ; 

Infinite  day  excludes  the  night, 
And  pleasures  banish  pain. 


HYMNS.  265 

There  everlasting  spring  abides, 

And  never-withering  flowers ; 
Death,  like  a  narrow  sea,  divides 

This  heavenly  land  from  ours. 

Sweet  fields  beyond  the  swelling  flood 

Stand  dressed  in  living  green  ; 
So  to  the  Jews  old  Canaan  stood, 

While  Jordan  rolled  between. 

But  timorous  mortals  start  and  shrink 

To  cross  this  narrow  sea, 
And  linger  shivering  on  the  brink, 

And  fear  to  launch  away. 

O,  could  we  make  our  doubts  remove, 

Those  gloomy  doubts  that  rise, 
And  see  the  Canaan  that  we  love, 

With  unbeclouded  eyes,  — 

Could  we  but  climb  where  Moses  stood, 

And  view  the  landscape  o'er, 
Not  Jordan's  stream  nor  death's  cold  flood 

Should  fright  us  from  the  shore ! 

Watts. 


266  HYMNS 


SAINTS  IN  HEAVEN. 


"  What  are  these  which  are  arrayed  in  •white  robes  ?  and  whence  came  they  ?  " 
■  Rev.  vii.  13. 

What  are  these  in  bright  array  ? 

This  innumerable  throng, 
Round  the  altar,  night  and  day, 

Tuning  their  triumphant  song  ? 
"  Worthy  is  the  Lamb  once  slain, 

Blessing,  honor,  glory,  power, 
Wisdom,  riches,  to  obtain, 

New  dominion  every  hour!  " 

These  through  fiery  trials  trod  ; 

These  from  great  affliction  came  ; 
Now  before  the  throne  of  God, 

Sealed  with  his  eternal  name, 
Clad  in  raiment  pure  and  white, 

Victor  palms  in  every  hand, 
Through  their  great  Redeemer's  might, 

More  than  conquerors  they  stand. 

Hunger,  thirst,  disease  unknown, 

On  immortal  fruits  they  feed  ; 
Them  the  Lamb  amidst  the  throne 

Shall  to  living  waters  lead. 
Joy  and  gladness  banish  sighs  ; 

Perfect  love  dispels  their  fears  ; 
And  for  ever  from  their  eyes 

God  shall  wipe  away  all  tears. 

Montgomery. 


HYMNS.  267 

TO  A  DYING  CHRISTIAN. 

M  The  Lord  bless  thee,  and  keep  thee."  —  Numb.  yi.  24. 

Parting  soul !  the  flood  awaits  thee, 
And  the  billows  round  thee  roar  : 

Yet  look  on,  —  the  crystal  city- 
Stands  on  yon  celestial  shore  ! 

There  are  crowns  and  thrones  of  glory, 
There  the  living  waters  glide  ; 

There  the  just,  in  shining  raiment, 
Wander  by  Immanuers  side. 

Linger  not,  the  stream  is  narrow, 

Though  its  cold,  dark  waters  rise  ; 
He  who  passed  the  flood  before  thee 

Guides  the  path  to  yonder  skies  : 
Hark !  the  sound  of  angels,  hymning, 

Rolls  harmonious  o'er  thine  ear  : 
See  the  walls  and  golden  portals 

Through  the  mist  of  death  appear. 

Soul,  adieu  !  this  gloomy  sojourn 

Holds  thy  captive  feet  no  more  ; 
Flesh  is  dropped,  and  sin  forsaken, 

Sorrow  done,  and  weeping  o'er. 
Through  the  tears  thy  friends  are  shedding 

Smiles  of  hope  serenely  shine  ; 
Not  a  friend  remains  behind  thee, 

But  would  change  his  lot  for  thine. 

Edmonstone. 


268  HYMNS, 


FAREWELL. 
"  He  giveth  his  beloved  sleep."  —  Ps.  cxxrii.  2. 

Lie  down  in  peace  to  take  thy  rest ! 

Dear,  cherished  form  !  no  longer  mine, 
But  bearing  in  thy  clay-cold  breast 

A  hidden  germ  of  life  divine  ; 
Which,  when  the  eternal  spring  shall  bloom, 
Will  burst  the  shackles  of  the  tomb. 

Lie  down  in  peace  to  take  thy  rest ! 

Unbroken  will  thy  slumbers  be  ; 
Satan  can  now  no  more  molest, 

And  death  has  done  his  worst  on  thee  ; 
Lie  down,  thy  hallowed  sleep  to  take, 
Till  clothed  with  glory  thou  shalt  wake. 

Lie  down  in  peace  to  take  thy  rest ! 

We  can  no  longer  watch  thy  bed, 
But  glorious  angels,  spirits  blest, 

Shall  guard  thee  day  and  night  instead  ; 
And  when  thine  eyes  unclosed  shall  be, 
Christ  in  his  glory  they  shall  see. 

Lie  down  in  peace  to  take  thy  rest ! 

My  eyes  must  weep,  —  my  heart  must  mourn  ; 
But  to  thy  soul,  with  Jesus  blest, 

For  comfort  and  for  hope  I  turn  ; 
Thou  wilt  not  mark  these  tears  that  flow, 
Sorrow  can  never  reach  thee  now. 


HYMNS.  269 

Lie  down  in  peace  to  take  thy  rest ! 

Let  me  betake  myself  to  prayer, 
Binding  faith's  corselet  on  my  breast, 

Lest  Satan  find  an  entrance  there  ; 
God  gave  ;  —  though  now  his  gift  he  claim, 
Still,  blessed  be  his  holy  name ! 

Barton. 


FOR  A  BLIND  PERSON. 

He  endured,  as  seeing  him  who  is  invisible."  —  Heb.  xi.  2" 

Are  nature's  charms  all  hidden 

For  ever  from  thy  view  ? 
Am  I  in  darkness  bidden 

My  journey  to  pursue  ? 
My  Father  !  O  my  Father ! 

Thy  child  can  trust  thee  still, 
And  strength  from  thee  can  gather, 

To  suffer  all  thy  will. 

Though  many  a  form  be  shrouded, 

That  once  inspired  delight, 
My  soul's  clear  eye,  unclouded, 

And  filled  with  inward  light, 
May  gaze  with  steadier  vision 

On  things  to  faith  revealed, 
And  wait  in  meek  submission 

For  all  to  be  unsealed. 


270  HYMNS. 

Vain  things  that  once  deluded, 

The  world's  false  glare  and  show, 
By  loss  of  sight  excluded, 

Nor  please,  nor  tempt  me  now. 
Should  I  not  welcome  blindness, 

If  sent,  my  God,  by  thee, 
In  thy  parental  kindness, 

To  break  earth's  spells  for  me  ? 

O,  if  this  sad  privation, 

Which  men  misfortune  deem, 
Make  Christ  and  his  salvation 

"  The  one  thing  needful "  seem, 
I  then  shall  gain  that  treasure, 

Impervious  to  decay, 
Which  care,  ambition,  pleasure, 

Might  else  have  snatched  away. 

On  thee,  my  God  !  reclining, 

From  things  external  freed, 
Calm,  peaceful,  unrepining, 

I  go  where  thou  shalt  lead. 
Loved  looks,  still  lovelier  seeming, 

In  memory's  glow  arrayed, 
On  me  are  ever  beaming, 

Undimmed  by  sorrow's  shade. 

Loved  voices  still  can  cheer  me, 
Sweet  birds  my  ear  can  charm, 

Kind  guardians,  ever  near  me, 
Watch  to  protect  from  harm  ; 


HYMNS.  271 


But,  O !  the  thought  most  cheering, 
Fraught  with  delight  untold, 

Is  this,  —  at  thine  appearing, 
Thy  face  I  shall  behold. 


JESUS  LIVES. 

"  I  know  that  my  Redeemer  liveth."  —  Job  six.  25. 

Jesus  lives !  my  life,  my  joy, 

Where,  O  death,  is  now  thy  terror  ? 
Soon  his  light  I  shall  enjoy, 

Free  from  darkness,  sin,  and  error ; 
He  from  darkness  sets  me  free, 
This  is  my  security. 

Jesus  lives  !  to  him  alone 

Power  o'er  all  the  earth  is  given  ; 
Soon  I  shall  behold  his  throne, 

Soon  with  him  shall  reign  in  heaven  ; 
God  fulfils  his  own  decree, 
This  is  my  security. 

Jesus  lives  !  who  saved  my  soul ; 

His  be  every  thought  and  feeling, 
He  shall  all  my  heart  control, 
All  my  aims  and  wishes  sealing ; 
Faithful  to  his  own  is  he, 
This  is  my  security. 


272  HYMNS. 

Jesus  lives !  and  from  his  love 

Naught  my  soul  shall  ever  sunder, 
Naught  beneath,  nor  aught  above, 
Satan's  wrath,  nor  Sinai's  thunder  ; 

Strength  he  gives,  abundant,  free, — 
This  is  my  security. 

Jesus  lives  !  the  hour  of  death 

Ushers  to  a  life  unending  ; 
O,  what  rapture  in  that  breath, 
(Anguish  every  fibre  rending,) 
If  my  soul  may  say  to  thee, 
Thou  art  my  security  ! 

Gellert. 


«FOR  EVER  AND  EVER." 

Rev.  vii.  12 

Eternity,  eternity, 

How  long  art  thou,  eternity  ! 
So  fleet  our  time  glides  on  to  thee, 
As  to  its  port  the  ship  at  sea, 
As  courier  swift  and  martial  steed, 
As  from  the  bow  the  arrows  speed. 

Eternity,  eternity, 

How  long  art  thou,  eternity  ! 


HYMNS.  273 

As  on  a  sphere  all  smooth  and  round, 
End  and  beginning  are  not  found  ; 
For  ever,  ever  thus  with  thee, — 
Unending,  vast  eternity ! 

Eternity,  eternity, 

How  long  art  thou,  eternity  ! 
Thou  art  a  ring  of  boundless  size, 
Unceasing  time  thy  centre  is, 
Thy  circuit  never  can  be  found, 
Since  thee  shall  limits  never  bound. 

Eternity,  eternity, 

How  long  art  thou,  eternity  ! 
If,  on  its  long  and  tedious  way, 
Some  bird  should  bear  our  world  away, 
In  every  thousand  years  one  sand, 
Still  thou  wouldst  undiminished  stand. 

Eternity,  eternity, 

How  long  art  thou,  eternity  ! 
If  only  in  each  thousandth  year 
Some  single  eye  should  drop  one  tear, 
So  vast  the  flood  at  length  would  grow, 
It  would  the  heavens  and  earth  o'erflow. 

Eternity,  eternity, 

How  long  art  thou,  eternity  ! 
Nor  ocean  drops,  nor  sandy  beach, 
The  number  of  thy  years  can  reach  ; 
18 


274  HYMNS. 

All  computation  strives  in  vain, 

Thy  vast,  thy  boundless  length  to  gain. 

Eternity,  eternity, 
How  long  art  thou,  eternity  ! 
O  man !  so  long  as  God  shall  reign, 
So  long  will  be  the  sinner's  pain, 
So  long  the  blest  their  tongues  employ  ; 
How  long  that  pain,  how  long  that  joy  ! 


INDEX  OF   FIRST  LINES. 


Ah,  how  empty,  ah,  how  fleeting 
Ah !  why  this  disconsolate  frame  ? 
All  hail !  thou  lengthener  of  my  days ! 
And  dost  thou  say,  "  Ask  what  thou  wilt 
And  must  thou  die,  my  darling  boy  ? 
And  shall  I,  Lord,  the  cup  decline 
And  wilt  thou  hear  the  fevered  heart 
A  poor  wayfaring  man  of  grief     . 
Are  nature's  charms  all  hidden  . 
Around  Bethesda's  healing  wave  . 
A.rt  thou  a  pilgrim,  and  alone    . 
Ask,  and  ye  shall  receive 
As  oft,  with  worn  and  weary  feet 
As,  panting  in  the  sultry  beam 
At  evening  time,  let  there  be  light 

Before  thy  footstool  kneeling 
Behold  how  short  a  span 
Behold,  the  great  Physician  stands 
Birds  have  their  quiet  nest    . 
Broken-hearted,  weep  no  more  . 


»? 


Cease  here  longer  to  detain  me 
Chamber  of  sickness !  much  to  thee  I  owe 
Change  is  written  everywhere 
Child  of  man,  whose  seed  below 


PAGE 

216 
220 
205 
111 
19T 
63 
73 
210 
269 
169 
105 
112 
71 
114 
189 

190 

223 

46 

61 

212 

242 
87 

219 
58 


276 


INDEX    OF    FIRST    LINES 


Come,  let  us  join  our  friends  above 

Come,  my  fond,  fluttering  heart 

Come  to  Calvary's  holy  mountain 

"  Come,  who  will,"  —  the  voice  from  heaven 


Deathless  principle,  arise 
Diseased  in  body,  mind,  and  soul 

Earth  is  the  spirit's  rayless  cell 
End  of  faith  and  its  foundation 
Eternity,  eternity  . 
Ever  patient,  gentle,  meek 


Father !  by  thy  love  and  power 
Father,  if  thou  willing  be  . 
Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost 
For  what  shall  I  praise  thee 
Fountain  of  grace,  rich,  full,  and  free 
Fountain  of  light  and  living  breath 
From  every  stormy  wind  that  blows 
From  the  depths  of  grief  and  fear 
From  the  recesses  of  a  lowly  spirit 
Full  of  trembling  expectation    . 

Gentle  stranger !  fearless  come 

Give  me  the  voice  of  mirth 

Glory  to  the  righteous  God    . 

Go  and  tell  Jesus  when  thy  heart  is  glad 

God  of  my  life !  thy  boundless  grace    . 


"  Go  hi  peace !  "  —  Serene  dismission 

Go  to  dark  Gethsemane  . 

Great  God !  what  do  I  see  and  hear  ? 


Haste,  my  spirit,  fly  away     . 
Heal  us,  Emmanuel !  here  we  are 
Her  home  is  far,  0,  far  away 
He  sendeth  sun,  He  sendeth  shower  . 
He  that  from  dross  would  win  the  ore 
Holy  Saviour,  friend  unseen 


INDEX    OF    FIRST    LINES.  277 

How  blest  the  righteous  -when  he  dies 241 

How  frail  are  these  bodies  of  clay 204 

How  happy  the  sorrowful  man 86 

How  heavily  the  path  of  life 135 

How  oft,  upon  my  feverish  bed 44 

How  sweetly  flowed  the  Gospel's  sound 56 

How  sweet  the  name  of  Jesus  sounds 176 

How  sweet  to  be  allowed  to  pray 77 

I  am  weary  of  straying,  —  0,  fain  would  I  rest    ....  230 

I  cannot  always  trace  the  way 33 

I  cannot  call  affliction  sweet .                        88 

If  all  our  hopes,  and  all  our  fears 226 

If  Christ  is  mine,  then  all  is  mine 185 

I  have  been  to  a  land,  a  Border-land  ...               .        .  152 

I  hear  the  bells,  I  see  them  go 179 

I  hear  thee  speak  of  the  better  land 207 

In  health,  0  Lord,  and  prosperous  days 153 

In  the  dust  I  'm  doomed  to  sleep 246 

In  the  hour  of  my  distress 99 

In  the  mid  silence  of  the  voiceless  night  ...                .  191 

Is  thy  path  lonely  ?  fear  it  not .  165 

I  would  disclose  my  whole  complaint 64 

I  would  not  live  alway 228 

Jesus,  great  healer  of  mankind 196 

Jesus  lives !  my  life,  my  joy 271 

Jesus,  lover  of  my  soul 147 

Jesus  saved  the  dying  thief 53 

Joyful  words,  —  we  meet  again ! 260 

Just  as  I  am,  without  one  plea 27 

Just  as  thou  art,  without  one  trace 26 

Know,  my  soul,  thy  full  salvation         ......  89 

Lie  down  in  peace  to  take  thy  rest 268 

Life  nor  death  shall  us  dissever 142 

Lone,  amidst  the  dead  and  dying 114 

Long  plunged  in  sorrow,  I  resign 159 


278  INDEX    OF    FIRST   LINES. 

Lord,  and  what  shall  this  man  do  ? 132 

Lord  God  of  my  salvation 49 

Lord,  how  often  have  I  read 63 

Lord,  I  would  thank  thee,  if  thine  hand 82 

Lord  of  earth !  thy  bounteous  hand 138 

Morn  is  the  time  to  think 193 

Mourner  in  Zion !  do  not  weep 134 

Much  have  I  borne,  but  not  as  I  should  bear        ....  69 

My  Father  and  my  God 68 

My  feet  are  worn  and  weary  with  the  march        .        .        .        .256 

My  mother,  look  not  on  me  now 244 

My  soul,  go  boldly  forth •     .        .232 

My  spirit  on  thy  care 103 

My  times  are  in  thy  hand 90 

My  whole,  though  broken  heart,  0  Lord 91 

Night  is  the  time  to  muse      .        .        . 192 

Night  turns  to  day 258 

No  sickness  there 251 

Not  in  thine  hours  of  conflict,  Lord 80 

Now  all  is  done,  that  love,  and  care      ......  199 

0,  cheer  thee,  cheer  thee,  suffering  saint 38 

Of  all  the  thoughts  of  God,  that  are 183 

Oft  as  the  leper's  case  I  read 42 

0  God,  from  whom  my  spirit  came 74 

0  God '.may  I  look  up  to  thee? 110 

O  God,  the  Lord  of  place  and  time =121 

O,  how  soft  that  bed  must  be 200 

O,  let  my  trembling  soul  be  still 12Q 

O,  lightly,  lightly  tread 208 

0  Lord !  how  happy  should  we  be 125 

0  Lord,  my  best  desire  fulfil 127 

0  Lord,  our  strength  and  righteousness 17 

0  my  soul !  what  means  this  sadness  ? 24 

One  time  I  was  allowed  to  steer 145 

0  Saviour !  whose  mercy,  severe  in  its  kindness       ...  150 

0  strange  infirmity !  to  think 129 


INDEX   OF   FIRST   LINES.  279 

0,  sweet  as  vernal  dews,  that  fill 175 

0  Thou,  all  holy,  wise,  and  just 39 

0  thou  faithful  God  of  love 203 

0  Thou,  God !  who  hearest  prayer 137 

0  Thou,  Majesty  Divine 100 

0  Thou,  my  kind,  chastising  God 122 

0  Thou,  to  wisdom  near  allied 160 

O  Thou !  whose  gently  chastening  hand 32 

O  Thou,  whose  wise,  paternal  love 146 

O,  weep  not  for  me!  I  can  never  be  blest 240 

0,'whatislife?  —  'T  is  like  a  flower 221 

Parting  soul !  the  flood  awaits  thee 267 

Peace  of  God,  which  knows  no  measure 81 

"  Perfect  in  love !  "  — Lord,  can  it  be 121 

Pilgrim!  is  thy  journey  drear? 34 

Pleasant  are  thy  courts  above 178 

Polar  Star  of  fife's  dark  sea 102 

Precious  Bible !  what  a  treasure        ...  172 

Rejoice  in  Christ  alway 123 

Saviour !  beneath  thy  yoke 18 

Saviour !  I  can  welcome  sickness 31 

Saviour  slain,  and  slain  for  me 57 

Saviour !  when,  in  dust,  to  thee 97 

Sickness  is  a  hallowed  season 83 

Since  't  is  God's  will,  pain,  take  your  course        ....  128 

Some  murmur  when  their  sky  is  clear 37 

Spirit,  leave  thine  house  of  clay 236 

Submissive  to  thy  will,  my  God 31 

Such  was  the  disciples'  cry 155 

Sufferer !  art  thou  conscience-stricken 47 

Sweet  is  the  name  of  rest 250 

Sweet  Sabbath  bells !  I  love  your  voice 182 

Tell  me  of  that  great  Physician 51 

Tell  me,  ye  winged  winds  .               214 

The  gaudy  day  is  dying 188 


280  INDEX    OF    FIRST    LINES. 

The  leaves  around  me  falling 194 

The  Son  of  David  bowed  to  die 65 

There  is  a  calm  for  those  who  weep 262 

There  is  a  fountain  filled  with  blood 180 

There  is  a  land  of  pure  delight 264 

There  is  an  hour  of  peaceful  rest 218 

There  is  a  state  unknown,  unseen 227 

Thou  art  near,  —  yes,  Lord.  I  feel  it 140 

Though  sorrows  rise  and  dangers  roll 158 

Thou  God  of  glorious  majesty 254 

Thou  man  of  griefs,  remember  me 164 

Thou,  who  didst  stoop  below 156 

Thou,  whose  never-failing  arm 231 

Thus  saith  Jesus :  I  will  keep 28 

'T  is  enough,  —  the  hour  is  come 248 

'T  is  my  happiness  below 36 

'T  is  sweet  when  cloudless  suns  arise 163 

To  do,  or  not  to  do,  —  to  have 79 

To  Jesus,  the  crown  of  my  hope 233 

To  prayer,  to  prayer !  —  for  the  morning  breaks        .        .        .  107 

Tread  softly !  bow  the  head .  246 

Wait,  my  soul,  upon  the  Lord 35 

Wake  now,  my  soul,  and  humbly  hear 143 

Watching,  through  the  silent  hours 43 

What  are  these  in  bright  array  ? 266 

What,  many  times  I  musing  asked,  is  man       ....  23 

What  though  in  lonely  grief  I  sigh 78 

When  anxious  thoughts  the  bosom  fill 119 

When  friend  from  friend  is  parting 171 

When  human  hopes  all  wither 70 

When  I  can  trust  my  all  with  God 131 

When,  in  the  hours  of  lonely  woe 154 

When  languor  and  disease  invade 130 

When  life  as  opening  buds  is  sweet 225 

When  morning's  first  and  hallowed  ray 213 

When,  my  Saviour,  shall  I  be 92 

When  restless  on  my  bed  I  lie 40 

When  summer  decks  thy  path  with  flowers      ....  168 


INDEX   OF   FIRST   LINES. 


281 


When  the  spark  of  life  is  -waning  . 
When  waves  of  trouble  round  me  swell    . 
Where  are  ye  with  whom  in  life  I  started 
Where  burns  the  fireside  brightest     . 
Where  high  the  heavenly  temple  stands 
Whether  we  smile  or  weep 
While  I  walk  life's  thorny  road     . 
Who  is  the  weak  believer,  who  . 
Why,  when  storms  around  you  gather . 
Wish  not,  dear  friends,  my  pain  away 
Within  this  leaf,  to  every  eye 
With  tearful  eyes  I  look  around, 
With  years  oppressed,  with  sorrows  worn 


240 
102 
261 
174 


165 

167 

126 

41 

21 

55 

201 


Ye  mourning  sinners,  here  disclose 45 

Yes,  I  do  feel,  my  God,  that  I  am  thine 142 


INDEX  OF   SUBJECTS. 


PAGE 

A  Better  Country 264 

A  Father's  Prayer           .               196 

Affliction  sanctified 63 

A  Living  Sacrifice 166 

Alpha  and  Omega 76 

A  Prayer  in  Sickness 3S 

As  Thou  wilt 75 

A  Thought  on  Death 225 

Autumnal  Hymn 194 

Balm  in  Gilead 50 

Behold,  I  was  left  alone 261 

Be  still,  and  know  that  I  am  God 131 

Be  of  Good  Cheer 38 

Believing  in  Hope 167 

Bethesda            169 

Birth  of  a  Child 195 

By  the  Bedside  of  a  Sick  Child 199 

Chamber  of  Sickness 87 

Chastisement              162 

Chastisement  misimproved 44 

Cheerful  and  Sad 143 

Christ  all-sufficient 72 

Christ  my  Kefuge 147 

Christ  our  Example  in  Suffering 60 


INDEX     OF    SUBJECTS.  283 

Christ  our  Light 102 

Christ's  Care 155 

Christ's  Discipline .  150 

Christ's  Exhortation 58 

Christ's  Promise 112 

Christ's  Submission  our  Example 63 

Christ's  Sympathy  with  the  Sufferer 93 

Christ  unchanging 219 

Clinging  to  Jesus 104 

Come  unto  me 55 

Committing  the  Soul  to  Jesus 103,  231 

Confidence  in  God          .........  120 

Confiding  in  God 125 

Conformity  to  Christ 94 

Convalescence            '. 205 

Correction  needed 41 

Crying  to  God 49 

Crying  to  Jesus 52 

Desiring  to  depart 232 

Detained  from  the  Sanctuary 182 

Divine  Peace 81 

Empty  and  Fleeting       .                        216 

Enduring  Trust 127 

Evening  Hymn       .                        188 

Evening  Litany 186 

Evening  Time 189 

Extreme  Sufferings            85 

Farewell •  268 

First  Requests Ill 

Fleetness  of  Life 223 

For  a  Blind  Person 269 

For  Ever  and  Ever 272 

For  my  Mother 200 

Friendship  with  Christ 154 

Glory  to  God 165 


*284  INDEX    OF     SUBJECTS. 

Go  and  tell  Jesus 149 

God  appoints 165 

God  is  Love 33, 163 

God  knoweth  what  is  Best         . ' 23 

God,  my  Helper 137 

God  near             140 

God  never  faileth 142 

Go  in  Peace 57 

Grateful  for  Chastisement 69 

Grateful  for  Trials 82 

Heaven 251 

Heaven  anticipated .  220 

Heavenly  Eest 250 

He  whom  Christ  loves 31 

Home 174 

Hope  thou  in  God 126 

Household  Harmony 175 

Hymn  at  the  Cross 100 

I  am  like  a  Broken  Vessel 146 

I  am  weary 230 

If  Christ  is  mine 185 

Immortality .  246 

I  would  not  live  alway 228,  257 

Jehovah  Eophi 48 

Jesus  and  the  Soul 28 

Jesus  lives ,  271 

Joy  in  God 213 

Just  as  I  am 27 

Just  as  thou  art 26 

Let  her  depart 206 

Lifting  the  Soul  to  God 116 

Litany 95 

Litany  to  the  Holy  Spirit 99 

Litany  to  the  Saviour 97 

Longing  for  God 114 


INDEX    OF     SUBJECTS.  285 

Longing  to  be  -with  Christ 233 

Look  and  live '47 

Looking  unto  Jesus 24,  156 

Lord,  and  what  shall  this  man  do  ? 132 

Lord,  I  believe 142 

Love  to  Christ 158 

Meditation .40 

Meet  again 260 

Midnight  Hymn 191 

Mizpah 171 

Morning 193 

My  Only  Portion 138 

Mystery  of  Chastisement 21 

My  Times  are  in  thy  Hand        .' 90 

Night 192 

Not  unclothed,  but  clothed  upon 153 

0,  bring  me  out  of  my  Distresses  ! 164 

Our  Help  and  our  Shield 121 

Our  Rest 256 

Patience 160 

Patience  in  Affliction 134 

Peace  purchased  by  Sufferings 61 

Perfect  in  Love 121 

Pilgrim  !  is  thy  journey  drear  ? 34 

Prayer  for  Spiritual  Healing 64 

Prayer  for  the  Sick 17 

Presumption  and  Despair 145 

Rejoice  alway 123 

Rejoicing  in  Hope 89 

Relying  upon  God 119 

Remembered  Afflictions 88 

Renouncing  the  World 66 

Resting  on  God 130 

Rise  and  pray 105 


286  INDEX     OF     SUBJECTS. 

Saints  in  Heaven 266 

Saviour  of  the  Dying  Thief 53 

School  of  Suffering 18 

Self-renunciation            92 

Sickness  and  Healing 204 

Sickness  blest 83 

Sickness  on  the  Sabbath 179 

Sickness  sanctified 84 

Sleep 183 

Spiritual  Healing            . 45 

Strength  according  to  the  Day           •• 35 

Strength  perfect  in  Weakness 128 

Submission -  .  81 

Submission  and  Succor 80 

Suffering  according  to  thy  Will         ......  74 

Suffering  sanctified 86 

Suffering  with  Christ 159 

Sufficient  Grace             73 

Surrender  and  Departure 239 

Teach  me  to  pray 110 

Thankful  and  Unthankful 37 

The  Aged 201 

The  Aged  Christian 248 

The  Bible 172 

The  Border-Land 152 

The  Courts  of  the  Lord 178 

The  Dying  Christian 235, 236 

The  Dying  Daughter .244 

The  Dying  Father 203 

The  Dying  Infant 242 

The  Dying  Son 197 

The  Family  in  Heaven  and  Earth 253 

The  Fountain •  54 

The  Fountain  opened 180 

The  Grave 262 

The  Great  Physician 51,  57 

The  Head  Sick,  the  Heart  Faint 190 


INDEX    OF    SUBJECTS.  287 

The  Heavenly  Rest 218 

The  Invitation 216 

The  Inquiry            214 

The  Leper 42 

The  Mercy-seat 112 

The  Name  of  Jesus 176 

The  Poor  Man's  Death-bed 246 

The  Refiner's  Fire       ....               ....  22 

The  Righteous  in  Death 241 

The  Rod 68 

The  Saviour's  Invitation 56 

The  Saviour's  Sympathy 71 

The  Saviour's  Triumph 65 

The  Sick  Child  to  his  Mother 207 

The  Sick-Room 43 

The  Sleeper 208 

The  Stranger  and  his  Friend 210 

The  Sufferer  looking  to  Christ 70 

The  Time  is  Short 222 

The  Time  of  the  Dead       .                249 

The  World  to  come 226 

Things  unseen            227 

Thoughts  in  Affliction            122 

Thoughts  of  Eternity 254 

Thou  hast  been  my  Refuge           129 

Thy  Will  be  done 76,  77,  78,  79 

'T  is  I,  be  not  afraid 102 

To  a  Dying  Christian 267 

To  Prayer   . 107 

Trials  a  Blessing 36 

Triumph  over  Death 237 

Via  Cruris,  via  Lucis  258 

Waiting  for  the  Lord 117 

Watch  ye § 168 

Weep  not  for  me 240 

What  is  Life  ? '        .        .        ■        .221 


288  INDEX     OF     SUBJECTS. 

Who  is  alone  ?  '. #        235 

Wholly  resigned        ....  91 

Why  am  I  stricken  ?  ••......  32 

Why  deepest  thou  ? 212 

Wilt  thou  be  made  whole  ? 46 


THE    END. 


